Scars of the Past
by Andraste Emeraldpetal
Summary: Legolas is forced to finally come to terms with his past, but he cannot do it alone. With the help of the Fellowship, will he ever be free of his own memory? Mild AU. Chapter XXIV up!
1. Chapter I: Concerned Hobbits

**Scars of the Past**

By Andraste

**CHAPTER I – CONCERNED HOBBITS**

"Mr. Frodo? Mr. Frodo?" Sam said, waving his hand in front of the hobbit's face to get his attention. Frodo blinked and looked at him.

"Yes, Sam?"

"Supper's ready, Mr. Frodo, and I was wonderin' if you could go and get everyone. The pot still needs to be supervised so it doesn't boil over." Sam blushed slightly, feeling odd that he had asked his master a favour.

"Certainly, Sam," Frodo said with a smile. He pulled himself up, a little reluctant to leave the heat of the fire. He found Gandalf, Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli sitting together, smoking their pipes. They seemed to be in quite a pleasant mood. "Sorry to interrupt, but supper is ready."

"Thank you for telling us, Master Baggins. We'll be there in a moment," said Gimli heartily. He took a final drag from his pipe then put it out and stuffed it back in his pack. The others did the same.

Frodo looked at them all and realized he was forgetting someone. He counted four putting out their pipes, three hobbits around the fire, himself... He felt a shiver of guilt not knowing all the members of the Fellowship yet, but they had only been travelling for a week and had plenty of time still to learn about each other. For now, Frodo needed to know who would be missing dinner.

"Aragorn, where is Legolas?" Frodo asked, finally realizing who it was that may have starved.

Aragorn glanced around then pointed towards the edge of the camp. Frodo thanked him and trudged through the damp grass towards the Elf.

"Legolas, supper is ready," he said quietly, for some reason a little nervous.

"I'm not hungry, thank you," Legolas replied coolly.

"Oh. Alright, then. I can get Sam to save some of it for you if you'd like?"

"No, that's all right," said the Elf.

"Alright." Frodo left Legolas to his solitude. Out of all the members of the Fellowship, Frodo knew the least about the Elf. Legolas rarely spoke to anyone, ever; he never joined them for meals; he appeared almost dangerous in his furtiveness, but there was a sadness about him that was so subtle, yet overpowering, that the assassin side of him was the side most preferred to see. The hobbit quickly returned to the warmth of the fire. Sam handed him a bowl of stew, identical to the ones the others held.

Throughout the meal Frodo paid little attention. He couldn't help but stare at the shadowed figure at the edge of the camp. Even from a distance, Legolas appeared as an assassin; thin, tall, and solitary.

"Aragorn," Frodo began in a distant voice, eyes still focused on the Elf, "Why is Legolas so… secret?"

The light conversation stopped. Aragorn set his bowl down and thought for a moment. "What do you mean, Frodo?"

"Why doesn't Legolas ever talk to anyone or eat with us?"

Aragorn sighed. "He is a very... untrusting individual. His past is full of tragedy. I don't feel it is my place to say much more."

Everyone turned to glance at Legolas, who still stood silently in the shadows, then turned back to their meal. An awkward silence fell over them until Gandalf suggested they get some sleep.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, turning again under his blanket, unable to sleep.

"Yes, Sam?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you, Mr. Frodo."

"You didn't. I can't seem to get to sleep. What's on your mind, Sam?"

"Just what Strider said earlier about Legolas and all. I never thought an Elf could be like that, since you brought it up, Mr. Frodo. Legolas _is _awfully quiet and has a dangerous air about him. I've talked to him once or twice and he never replies much. It's like talking to a statue. And have you noticed he never removes his bow from his shoulder? He's always armed and that frightens me some, Mr. Frodo; along with his eyes. They're as icy as his voice. The Elves from Rivendell were nothin' like that. They were pleasant and sang songs and recited poems. I'm almost afraid of Legolas. He seems like someone who's not afraid to kill, Mr. Frodo, if you catch my meaning."

"I do, Sam. I know what you mean. But Aragorn also said that Legolas' past is not a happy one. I plan to find out more about him tomorrow, or it might pick my brain apart."

"I wouldn't want that, Mr. Frodo," Sam said with a yawn.

Frodo chuckled. "Neither would I, Sam."

"Legolas?" Aragorn said, walking up behind the Elf and standing next to him. "The hobbits wonder about you. Perhaps you could be a little less tense. They asked me about you at dinner-"

Legolas shot a sharp glance in Aragorn's direction, fear flaring in his eyes – fire against water.

"I didn't tell them anything. All I said was that you had a dark past and a good reason to be the way you are. I was hoping that you would tell them the rest, just so that the hobbits- and the rest of the Fellowship, for that matter- would understand and not worry so much about you."

"It's nothing the hobbits want to hear. No one should hear the things I've heard, Aragorn; they shouldn't see what I've seen. I think it would be best if I remained an enigma to them, for their sake," Legolas said with some compassion.

"I understand, my friend. The least you could do is join us for meals," Aragorn suggested. "I'm not saying you have to eat anything, just come and sit with us around the fire," he hastily added. He knew the idea of eating wouldn't go over well with the Elf. Legolas hardly ate; it was another scar from his past. Aragorn was the only one who knew and understood Legolas' entire story, except for, maybe, Gandalf.

"I will try to do my best as to not worry the hobbits, but I will not tell them anything and I ask you to do the same."

"Of course, Legolas," Aragorn said. A moment of silence passed them by; not an awkward silence, more of a minute of unspoken comfort.

"They open sometimes and bleed," Legolas said quietly, almost so Aragorn couldn't hear him. "They still pain me, after all these years. The memory haunts my dreams. The screams, the pain, the whips, all of it. Why won't it all just go away?"

Aragorn felt guilty that he could not supply his friend with an answer. "I don't know, Legolas."

Another moment of silence passed them.

"You should get some rest, my friend," Legolas said as he turned and rested his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. Aragorn smiled weakly then returned to his bedroll and forced himself to sleep.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, get up!" Pippin hollered in his cousin's ear. Merry shot up with a start, a little frightened.

"What!" Merry demanded, just as loud.

"Breakfast is ready!"

"Alright!"

"Stop yellin', you two. You'll wake up Mr. Frodo."

"It's a little late for that, Sam," Frodo said, sitting up.

"Did you not sleep a wink _all _night, Mr. Frodo?"

"I slept a little, but not very well, I'm afraid. Where are the others?"

"They're packin' up, Mr. Frodo. Strider said he was going to scout ahead, but he should be back soon," replied Sam. He took a small sip out of the ladle he was using to stir their breakfast to make sure it was ready then announced that it was time to eat. As if on cue, Aragorn returned.

"The terrain is favourable, but there are large forests that would be ideal for… difficulties."

The hobbits' faces fell. Already they were being faced with danger after so little time. The presence of warriors such as Boromir and Gimli had given them a sense of comfort; and Gandalf being with them had given them such relief that they seemed to believe nothing would go wrong for them at all as long as he were there.

"Good morning," said Legolas suddenly. His voice was as low and icy as ever, but just to hear him speak put the Fellowship at a little more ease.

"Mornin', Mr. Legolas," said Sam with a little bit of anxiety in his voice.

There was an awkward moment of silence. No one knew what to say; they had never really talked with Legolas before.

"Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Legolas?"

"No, thank you, Sam," Legolas said, trying to smile.

The gardener looked a little hurt that someone would not want to eat his cooking. Certainly he was not the greatest chef, but due to his restrictions on ingredients, Sam thought that the meals he made were beyond decent. He was also slightly confused. Legolas hadn't eaten a thing the whole time they had journeyed. A week was a long time to go without any food; especially to a hobbit. Sam shrugged it off and emptied his bowl.

"That was very good, Sam. Thank you," said Aragorn. He seemed a bit withdrawn today, but that seemed normal to the hobbits, who had travelled with him for some time.

"Indeed it was, Samwise," added Gandalf. He handed his empty bowl to Sam with a small smile then glanced at Legolas. When they all stood, the wizard approached the Elf. "May I speak with you for a moment, Legolas?"

"Of course, Mithrandir."

Gandalf walked with him to where Legolas often stood. The hobbits were still packing up their things so they would have some peace for a while.

"Legolas, I'm worried about you. I haven't seen you since you returned to Mirkwood."

The Elf flinched at the memory.

"You're not sleeping or eating and that's not good for your health, my friend. I understand why you don't, but eating a little bit at the odd time would do you good. So would some rest."

"Even if I tried I could never sleep. I _have _tried, Mithrandir, but the memory haunts me even while I rest. I will never rid myself of it and I've learned to accept that."

"Aragorn tells me that your wounds still open on occasion. Is this true?"

Legolas nodded. "Not for any specific reason, though. They'll just split and bleed for awhile."

"Mr. Gandalf, Mr. Legolas! You comin'?" called Sam from the other edge of the camp.

"In a moment, Samwise!" replied the wizard. He turned back to Legolas and said, "If anything happens I want you to tell me immediately."

"Of course, Mithrandir."


	2. Chapter II: The Assassin, The Victim

**CHAPTER II – THE ASSASSIN, THE VICTIM**

"So, you see, Boromir, us Tooks are far better at brewing ale than the Brandybucks," said Pippin with triumph, coming to the end of his tale.

"I beg to differ, my dear Pippin. For, you see, I don't remember having any ale from Tookborough for many, many years. If it is as amazing as you claim it to be, then it would popular in all the Farthings, not just your little holes in the south," Merry argued, nudging his cousin's shoulder harshly.

Boromir couldn't help but laugh at how competitive the hobbits were over things such as food and drink. "I should like to try both sometime. They sound equally good."

"You say 'equally' now, but wait until you try the Tookborough ale."

"That way he'll know that the stuff by the Brandybucks' is better."

Suddenly the line halted. Aragorn and Gandalf glanced in all directions.

"What is it, Aragorn?" Boromir asked, walking up behind him.

"Don't you hear that?" Aragorn asked.

Boromir paused and listened. He couldn't hear anything, but perhaps that is what the Ranger was trying to point out. "I don't hear anything."

"Nor do I," agreed Gimli. "How about you, Master Elf?" Gimli waited, but Legolas didn't reply. "Master Elf?"

Aragorn looked over the Company. Legolas had gone! He must've heard what had halted them and gone after it. Normally Aragorn would've been calm because he knew Legolas could take care of himself, but this time he didn't even know what the Elf was up against so it was hardly possible to remain optimistic. Then, out of the small forest next to them, came Legolas. He had his knives drawn and was trying to catch his breath; blood staining his left shoulder where he had been bitten. Shortly following him was possibly the largest Warg any of them had ever laid their eyes upon. It was easily the size of three horses and looked angry.

"Legolas!" Frodo cried in alarm. He moved to help the Elf even though he was terrified.

"No, Mr. Frodo!" Sam dove after him, managing to just wrap his arms around his waist. They both fell to the ground.

"But... what about Legolas? Aragorn?"

Aragorn stood beside them. He was torn. If he went and helped Legolas he would leave the Fellowship vulnerable to the Warg's ferocity, but staying with the Fellowship would mean leaving his companion to fight on his own. Neither way seemed even remotely appealing.

"He can take care of himself, Frodo," said Aragorn, his fingers twitching above the hilt of his sword.

"You're not suggesting we leave him are you!" Frodo asked, blue eyes widening to the size of saucers.

"No, of course not. But we can't put the rest of the Fellowship in danger."

All stared in horror, wide-eyed. Frodo and Sam remained on the ground next to Aragorn. Gandalf was the only one who seemed relatively calm. The Warg sprang at Legolas, teeth barred. With a sharp flex of his legs, Legolas leapt onto the creature's back. He drove both of the knives deep into its shoulders, causing it to scream out in agony. Then Legolas leapt back off, preparing his bow and notching an arrow. While the beast thrashed in pain, Legolas sprinted to where its head was and shot it in the throat. The Warg cried out, but was not dead yet. Two more arrows were fired, one into its chest the other into its skull and the animal collapsed, dead. Legolas retrieved his arrows and shouldered his bow.

"Valar..." Frodo said quietly to himself in disbelief. He knew the Elf's efforts had been in the Fellowship's favour, but he couldn't help the dread rising in his chest as he saw Legolas' quickness to kill.

"Are you all right, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, approaching the Elf.

Legolas nodded feebly. His hand was over the wound on his shoulder, dyed red with the blood. His breathing was laboured and his face was pale with the exception of the tiny beads of sweat that glimmered on his white complexion. The cut was deep and bleeding, but not at a life-threatening rate. He swayed in his weariness and nearly fainted, had Aragorn not caught him mere inches before he hit the ground.

"We cannot stop before the day has begun," said Gandalf gravely. "Aragorn, dress the wound for now, but we will have to carry him until tonight."

Aragorn nodded in understanding, but Frodo was not pleased with this decision.

"But, Gandalf-" he began in protest. He had never seen a wound such as the one that Legolas bore. Nor had he ever seen so much blood. The most disturbing thing was that Legolas did not appear very alarmed by the injury; he almost looked accustomed to it.

"Frodo, you must understand," said the wizard wisely.

The young hobbit still did not like the situation, but he knew Gandalf would not endanger Legolas' life and that lifted his heart a little. He glanced over at Aragorn who was digging through his pack trying to find a bandage to dress the wound. Aragorn quickly found what he was searching for and, after removing the Elf's tunic, wound the bandage around his bloody shoulder

"Gandalf, I really think that we should stop here," Aragorn suggested. "This wound is worse than it's letting on."

"I- I'll be fine, Aragorn. Gandalf," he took a deep breath, "Gandalf's right. You shouldn't waste a day on my account. I'll be fine until nightfall."

Aragorn nodded reluctantly and lifted Legolas into his arms.

"Nightfall is only about three hours away anyway," Boromir said, trying to make the Company more reassured. They agreed and began their trek again.

"We shall stop here," said Gandalf. Ever since the Warg, the wizard had forced them to walk quicker so they would cover a greater distance. Everyone collapsed on the ground, heaving the packs off their backs. "Will you please start dinner, Samwise."

"Of course, Mr. Gandalf, sir," obeyed the hobbit, scrambling to his tired feet and gathering up some stray twigs to start a fire.

Aragorn set Legolas lightly on the ground. The Elf had either fallen asleep or passed out about an hour earlier. Frodo walked over and stood behind the Ranger, who was laying a blanket over the wounded archer.

"Aragorn, will he be all right?"

Aragorn sighed. He didn't know how to answer as he did not know himself. "He'll be fine, Frodo." A part of Aragorn scorned him for lying to the hobbit, but he dismissed it. "Will you tell Gandalf-?"

"I'm already here," said the wizard, setting his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "Go and help Samwise with the fire, Frodo."

"Yes, Gandalf," he said quietly. He trudged over to where Sam already had a fire going and sat down. He wondered why Gandalf would rather have Legolas remain in the shadows. Frodo had always been taught that injured people should be kept warm, but he supposed Gandalf had a good reason for it and helped Sam make stew- yet again.

The Company ate their meal in silence without Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas. Afterwards they all pulled out their pipes, taking slow, thoughtful drags from them.

"Boromir, we need your aid," said Gandalf from where he was bent over Legolas.

"Gandalf," Aragorn whispered to the wizard, "I think that we should try to do this without anyone else. Legolas doesn't want the others to know."

"Aragorn, having Boromir help may save Legolas more than you think."

"Yes, Gandalf?" asked Denethor's son as he knelt next to Aragorn.

"We don't want to move Legolas' back too much while we moved him closer to the fire. Will you support the small of his back, please?"

"Of course-"

Legolas stirred slightly, "Mithrandir, I'll be fine, please-" His voice came out strained with desperation.

"Legolas, I don't want to take any chances."

"Mithrandir," Legolas was almost pleading.

Gandalf ignored him. "Boromir, we just ask you not to place your hands on any of the scars."

Boromir's expression was puzzled, but not after Gandalf commanded Legolas to turn onto his side. Boromir gasped. All across the Elf's back and shoulders were large, deep scars. They were visible through a dark, grotesque brand that spanned Legolas' entire back. He was extremely careful where he placed his hands, making sure not to touch anything that might cause the Elf more pain. On Gandalf's command, they all lifted and carried Legolas to the fireside. Aragorn quickly draped the blanket back over his friend's shoulders. Boromir stood for a long moment, staring at the Elf. This made Frodo wonder.

"Sam, how much stew is left?" Aragorn asked, not taking his eyes off Legolas.

"We saved enough for the three of you," replied Sam. Without even being told, he filled three bowls with the stew he and Frodo had prepared. Handing one to each, he glanced at Legolas.

"Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome, Mr. Strider."

Aragorn handed the bowl to Legolas, who simply turned away as though the sight of it revolted him. His shoulders jerked as though he was going to throw up. Aragorn took Legolas' elbow- gently- and offered the bowl to him again. The Elf stared at it for a moment then looked away.

"Just one bowl, Legolas. That's all I ask." He said it with such sincerity and concern that Legolas cautiously took the bowl and sipped quietly at it.

For about an hour the rest of the Company talked and at the end of that hour Legolas had finally finished his meal. Aragorn smiled and returned the bowl to Sam. He was proud of Legolas for actually eating properly. He had tried in the past and always ended up with a bruise. Unfortunately it took only five minutes for Legolas to get sick. He wasn't used to eating so much at once and, being an Elf, he didn't have to. He stood so quickly his head spun, but he still managed to get to the tree line before being sick. The blanket had fallen from his shoulders, but not before he had emerged into the shadows. Each member of the Company cringed at the sounds that came from the trees. Sam looked horrified.

"It was nothing you did, Sam," said Aragorn before running to Legolas' aid.

Nonetheless Sam looked like he too was about to vomit. The colour drained from his face and he placed his hand over his mouth. It wasn't so much that he felt a little bit responsible- it was his stew after all- it was the feeling that formed deep in his stomach as he heard the agony of the Elf. Never had he heard such a sound. It was disgusting and made him sick to his stomach, but it caused him to pity the Elf. His figure reflected it and what had just happened confirmed to the hobbit that Legolas hadn't eaten properly in a long time. It made him wonder what may have happened, but whatever his imagination came up with couldn't compare with the horror Legolas had really experienced.


	3. Chapter III: Embers of a Memory

**CHAPTER III – EMBERS OF A MEMORY**

Legolas sat and watched the fire slowly die down. The only other one up was Merry because it was his watch. Soon, though, the young hobbit would be waking Gandalf to take his turn. Merry was barely able to keep his eyes open, but it was not Merry that Legolas was concerned about; it was the fire. As he stared at it a horrible memory returned to him. He remembered the heat of the chambers, how claustrophobic they made him. The stench of charred flesh, the freakish screams of the Orcs and the agonizing screams of their victims, especially those of his brothers. Legolas twitched as a chill ran up his spine and felt tears begin to stream down his face. His breathing quickened and he began to sweat, unable to escape from the dark memory. He could hear them screaming his name; he remembered how desperately they held on, enduring the agonizing pain of the Orcs' whips and other devices. He could see it all, now. The fires burning in the caverns, his brothers, the Orcs… Legolas shook his head and returned to reality. He calmed himself down, taking slow, deep breaths, and tried to ignore the intense burning on his back.

Merry yawned. Keeping watch was definitely not a job for a hobbit who grew tired after a few hours of walking. He forced his eyes back open. Maybe it wasn't so much that he was tired, perhaps it was more that he was lonely. There was no one to talk to and Merry was a very talkative hobbit. There was no point in waking anyone, which would be unfair. So, he sighed and bore the silence. The only sound was the odd time the fire would crackle. Merry wondered what time it was, whether he should be waking up Gandalf or not. He guessed that it was time for Gandalf's shift and stood. Glancing over at the fire, he saw Legolas and a chill went up his spine. There was something about that Elf… When he looked closer he saw that Legolas' eyes were oddly concentrated on the fire. Merry tried to move towards Gandalf, but ended up moving the other way. Suddenly Legolas shook his head. Even by the dim light of the flames his pale face seemed to have become dramatically whiter.

"Legolas," Merry said softly, not meaning to say anything out loud.

The Elf looked up at him. "Your watch is over," he stated in a low voice.

"Are you all right?" the hobbit asked. He took a few steps closer, cautiously.

"I'm fine-" Legolas felt a sharp pain in his temples and it felt like his back had been set on fire. He cradled his forehead with his hand and bit back against the throbbing in his head.

"Legolas…"

"I said I'm fine," he repeated.

"No, you're not!" Merry snapped to his surprise.

Legolas looked at him with different eyes; eyes that none of the Fellowship had seen. They were softer, almost sorrowful.

"I want to know what's wrong so I can help," Merry said in a firm tone.

Legolas was about to reply when he felt a pain strike across his back, then another. His head pounded. "It's nothing that I can't handle."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he replied in a painful tone of voice. The wound in his shoulder was now throbbing, along with his head and the pains in his back that felt just as they did when the whip struck across it.

Merry wasn't stupid. He could see how much pain Legolas was in now. He stepped closer and kneeled next to Legolas, placing a hand on his shoulder. The Elf winced. "Legolas, please just tell me what is wrong so at least I can get someone to help."

"I'm beyond help," Legolas said so quietly that Merry almost didn't catch it. The Elf could hardly bear the heat of the blanket anymore, but he would not allow the hobbit to see his scars. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

_Why won't he just tell me?_ Merry thought. Perhaps I should just wake Gandalf...

The temperature was unbearable. Legolas was uncomfortable, and the heat of the fire added to that of the blanket which pressed against his skin and pained his back worse. Darkness crept over his vision. Legolas fought his eyes back open once then succumbed to unconsciousness. He wavered to the left and collapsed. Merry caught the Elf in his arms. "Gandalf!" he cried. "Gandalf!!"

"What is it, Meriadoc?" the wizard asked, sitting up suddenly. "What's happened?" He stood up and kneeled next to Merry.

"I- I'm really not sure…"

"Go to sleep."

"But, Gandalf-"

"Go. To. Sleep."

Merry left reluctantly and crawled over Pippin to get to his bedroll.

"Gandalf…" Legolas said, his voice weak and desperate.

"I know, Legolas. Just be still," Gandalf said calmly. He thought for a moment. "I'll be back in a moment."

Legolas nodded.

Gandalf stood and went over to Aragorn's bedroll. He nudged the Ranger rather harshly.

"Gandalf?" Aragorn asked, his eyes still adjusting to the dim lighting.

"Aragorn, I need you to go to Legolas-"

Aragorn sat up with a start and scrambled out of bed to where Legolas was lying. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm alright," the Elf lied. "I've survived this before."

Aragorn opened his mouth then closed it again. Legolas _had_ survived it before. He survived it every minute of every day, but Aragorn knew that if this continued that a day would come when the Elf wouldn't. "Legolas, how did this happen?" Aragorn asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"The flames… they reminded me of…" Legolas stopped. He really didn't want to continue with his tale. Aragorn apparently understood as he did not press Legolas on. The Ranger forced himself to calm down.

"How do you feel now, Legolas?"

There was no point in lying. "I'm burning. I don't think it's the heat of the fire, Aragorn," he admitted gravely.

Aragorn nodded. "I don't know if I should move you. How much pain are you in?"

Legolas didn't reply. He drew in a sharp breath and held it for a moment. The pain was slowly starting to subside; either that or he was just going numb. A moment later he realized he hadn't gone numb. The pain of a thousand flames shot along his scars. He winced and let out a strangled cry. Aragorn saw this and took Legolas' hand.

"Na sel', mellon nîn be calm, my friend," he said softly. "Sel' dad calm down."

Legolas was breathing heavily and clutched his chest. He gripped Aragorn's hand as well. Thankfully it was just a outburst and the immense pain diminished, leaving only a dull throb. Legolas took this change to regain his breath and loosened his hold on the Ranger's hand, but did not let go. As soon as the pain had gone away, it returned, but this time it was no spell. The burning sensation on his back flared. Legolas cried out, waking everyone else at camp.

Merry, who hadn't really been asleep since the end of his watch, shot up and scrambled over Pippin and Boromir. He ran over to Aragorn and knelt on Legolas' other side. He was almost as frantic as the Elf was, and he didn't even know what had happened and couldn't find his voice to ask. Boromir had shortly followed him.

"What happened, Aragorn?" he asked, his voice shaking as he remembered the snaking welts on Legolas' back. He could see the pain on the prince's face. It was hard for Boromir to see his companion in such agony. Yet, somehow, the prince looked strong, like he was fighting a battle. This put Boromir somewhat at ease.

Again Aragorn opened his mouth but lost the words. "He's dying all over again."


	4. Chapter IV: Recollection of Hell

**CHAPTER IV – RECOLLECTION OF HELL**

Legolas bit his lower lip and gazed apologetically into his brother's eyes. This had been the tenth time he had been forced to watch this. Isilme was being held up roughly by two Orcs, one on either side of him. The third held a knife, though it preferred to use its bare hands to inflict pain upon its victim. It slashed across Isilme's torso with its claws. Legolas could hear Ithil cursing and crying.

"Naar ar' gurth e' Mordor! burn and die in Mordor!" He sobbed, trying to escape the grip of the Orcs that held him back. "Gurth!! Die!!"

That was a rather useless threat seeing as how they were in the very heart of Mordor, shadowed by the peaks of Mount Doom.

There was a swift crack of a whip and Ithil fell to his knees. Legolas glanced at his brother, then back at the other. Isilme was fading fast. His pale skin was red, black, and blue. The Orc kneed him hard in the stomach and Legolas could hear the faint sound of his brother's ribs cracking. He clamped his eyes shut. He prayed again for this all to be just a nightmare and he would wake up to the cheerful faces of his brothers, laughing at him because of the odd things he tended to say in his sleep.

Legolas woke up on the dungeon floor. He must've passed out earlier. He managed to regain his keen Elven vision and saw, in the dim, orange candlelight, three figures. Two were kneeling and one was lying perfectly prostrate. Legolas crawled over to them. Isilme had survived the torture of the Orcs, but just barely. Ithil was holding his twin's hand, crying silently. Swallowing hard, Legolas noticed that some of Isilme's ribs were indeed broken. Thin streams of blood trickled out of the cuts across his upper body. Calen, Legolas' oldest brother, was deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" Legolas asked. When they spoke to each other, the princes usually used the Common Tongue because the Orcs couldn't understand it; if they intended for the Orcs to hear it, the spoke in Elvish because some of the Orcs couldn't remember their native language.

"If we don't bind his ribs and dress the wounds, he'll die," replied the eldest prince.

Ithil choked on his tears. Legolas and Calen felt their hearts wrench. They all shared a strong relationship with their brother, but because Ithil and Isilme were twins, they had a bond that couldn't be matched by anything. If Isilme died, which (though they didn't want to admit it) he probably would, their number would dwindle down to three.

Fourteen strong they had been at one point. Then they became twelve with the death of Taure, then eleven after Mallorn was killed, then ten when Anar had been tortured to death, after Ilmen killed himself they became nine. As days passed they were picked off one by one; Aranorn, Redome, Carad, Tiri, Menel, and Amonlasse. And now they were but four and would soon be the only three living Mirkwood princes. That is, if they lived. It's not that the three of them weren't't injured. For months they had endured every pain the Orcs put them through. Legolas had almost died had Calen not sucked the poison out of his blood. They were all extremely bruised and bloody and scarred, physically and mentally. There was most likeliness that none of them would get home alive.

"You cannot stay here," Isilme managed to say. "You must… escape…"

"No. I'm not going without you. I'm not going without him," Ithil said to Calen, looking him dead in the eye.

"Too late," Calen said so quietly that almost no one had heard him.

Isilme was dead.

Ithil stopped breathing and his eyes widened; all he could do was cry. Calen turned his head and closed his eyes. Legolas stared at the body of another dead brother. Tears stung in his eyes, but did not fall. Death had become a sick normality now. Just at that moment, the door of their cell opened. An Orc grabbed Calen roughly by the arm. With new- found hatred, Calen turned around and punched the beast hard in the face. He then managed to grad its sword and stabbed it in the chest. It didn't even scream. Calen turned to the remaining two, but just as he opened his mouth, more Orcs entered. They all grabbed the princes harshly and pulled them away, leaving the body of their brother.

"Calen!!"

Legolas didn't see where the Orcs had taken Calen and Ithil. He was in a small room, all by himself. He didn't know how long he sat there before someone came. Legolas stood, ready to fight, but it was not an Orc that had opened the door. It was a Human.

The man was rather thin and looked older that he should have; his eyes were young and sparkled dangerously, but there was fear behind them. He was dressed all in black; no armour or weapons.

"Come with me," he said flatly, grabbing the prince's wrist. The man was stronger than he looked, for Legolas couldn't find the strength to fight against him. He was dragged down a dark hall and up many steps. He fell twice in his fatigue, giving him more bruises and cuts and perhaps a broken bone. As they ascended the stairs, Legolas could feel the air getting warmer. Until he was sure that he would die if he had to take another step, they reached a door. The man through Legolas bodily into the room then slammed the door behind him.

Legolas could feel the darkness on his shoulders. There were no candles or windows. Though the room was stifling warm, he shivered. This place touched a part of his heart that caused fear to erupt in him. Legolas held his shoulders, feeling somewhat exposed. There were sounds all around him, yet it was silent. Legolas was truly afraid.

"Welcome, Prince of Mirkwood," something breathed. There was amusement and cruelty in that voice.

Legolas felt something brush against him and he recoiled. "Who are you?"

The voice didn't reply. Though it was dark, Legolas could see its tall, menacing silhouette and the fear grew inside of him. It started as a cold ball in the bottom of his stomach, but had grown up into his chest. He had never been so cold in his life. Even as he felt the shadow inch nearer, he couldn't make himself move. It grabbed his shoulder and Legolas felt it freeze along with the pain of a thousand knives pierce his arm. He stifled a cry. Suddenly the shadow was behind him. It placed its palm on his back, but it was not cold. Legolas knew that feeling, he knew it well from all the times the Orcs had tortured him with hot pokers. It was like lava was being poured into his bloodstream and he lurched forward. The shadow was in front of him again, gazing happily at the pathetic form cowering before it, and it laughed. Legolas couldn't do anything but shiver and live in the fear that this thing was inflicting upon him.

"Who are you?" he repeated, fighting back tears. He was now wholly miserable and terrified. There was nothing in him but cold and fear and hate, and that's all there would ever be in the rest of his long life.

It cackled again then lunged forward. As it passed through him, Legolas felt every fibre of his being go numb with terror and then he knew no more.

When Legolas woke up, the memory of the shadow was still fresh in his mind. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious, but he guessed it had been a while, maybe a day. However long it had been, he was no longer in that room in the tower, he was back in his damp stone cell. He shivered against the cold air. The torch offered very little heat, though it gave more light than usual. Legolas cradled his forehead in his head and tried to stop himself from being sick. The frightening dark feeling was still creeping in the prince's insides. There was the dull sound of someone coming down the stairs and Legolas looked up. He crept into the corner and drew his knees up to his chest. There was a cry of pain and something that sounded like someone collapsing.

"Legolas? Legolas, manke naa lle? Legolas, where are you?" whispered a hoarse voice.

Legolas was still quite disoriented and didn't make any great effort to try and tell who the voice belonged to. All he could say was, "Sinome. Here." He realized that that was by no means the most specific direction, but if it was another Elf who was speaking he would have no trouble trying to find where Legolas was judging by which direction his voice had come from.

"Legolas!" exclaimed the Elf when he found the prince. He gasped. Legolas looked absolutely pathetic. He had lost a lot of weight even though there hadn't been much there to begin with; he was scarred and bruised and cut on almost every section of his upper body; and he looked very frightened.

"Haldir…" Legolas said, smiling weakly.

Haldir took out the key that he had taken from the Orc Legolas had heard him kill a moment ago and opened the cell door. He ran in to Legolas' side and lifted him into his arms, rightly guessing that the prince had total unwillingness to stand, let alone walk. Legolas fell limp in his arms and Haldir carried him out into the corridor. In the cell right next to Legolas's was Ithil.

"Orophin," Haldir called quietly. Immediately his brother was standing next to him. "Could you carry Ithil please?" Orophin nodded and hoisted the unconscious Elf onto his back. They checked the rest of the cells, hoping to find eleven more princes, but they didn't. Haldir was deeply grieved and he could already imagine how Thranduil would react when he told them they had been too late. Swallowing hard, Haldir led the way back up the staircase and through the hall, stepping over numerous Orc carcasses as he went. He and Orophin were met by the rest of the archers Haldir had brought with him to rescue the princes. He laid Legolas (who was now unconscious) in front of him when he mounted his horse then rode as quickly as he could out of Mordor.

Haldir grew worried as the days slipped passed. Neither Legolas nor Ithil showed any signs of waking and Haldir could feel them slipping away. His endless prayers had caused him to not realize that they were very close to Rohan. Perhaps they should stop now so he could see how the princes were faring. He raised his hand and the riders behind him halted promptly. He dismounted and took Legolas off of Anoron. Laying the young prince on the grass, he removed his cloak and draped it over him.

There had been no need to inspect the wounds; Haldir could see their full extent at a glance. He had never seen Legolas in such a horrible state. It was wretched to even imagine the kind of pain his companion was in. There wasn't really anything he could do for the princes now, except get them back to Lothlórien as quick as possible. He stood up from where he had been kneeling and turned to face the other Elves. They looked rather tired, as did their horses. Haldir picked Legolas back up and put him back on Anoron. The other archers moved to mount their horses, but Haldir put up his hand.

"You are all tired. Stay here for a night or so if you like. I only ask that Orophin accompany me. I will see the rest of you in Lothlórien." As he kicked Anoron into a gallop, he added, "Pray for them."


	5. Chapter V: Son of Elrond, Archer of Lori...

**CHAPTER V – **The Son of Elrond, the Archer of Lórien

"You really should relax, Lord Thranduil," said Galadriel in her magical voice. She watched the king pace the length of the study all day long. It was obvious he hadn't eaten or slept in a while. Galadriel was concerned for his health, but would have gotten up to do the same if she wasn't using every fibre of her being to keep herself calm.

For nearly a year now the princes hadn't returned home. They had been sent in late January as a dispatch to Mordor. The Orcs there had been trespassing into Mirkwood's realm and had killed and injured a fair number of people.

"This is my fault…" Thranduil murmured, creasing his pacing. He collapsed in his chair and held his forehead with his hand. "I should've sent more experienced soldiers…"

"You mean Elves that weren't your sons," Galadriel said.

Thranduil nodded and stifled back a sob. "What am I going to do, Galadriel?"

"I don't honestly know, my Lord."

It hurt Galadriel to tell him that. She- the Lady of the Golden Wood- who was said to be the most powerful Elven sorceress known to Middle- earth did not know. She was so used to being able to prevent occurrences and guide people through their troubles, to not be able to tell one of her dearest companions what was happening to his sons was truly horrible.

There was a sudden bang! from the main hall. Thranduil stood so quickly that he nearly knocked over his chair. Galadriel turned to the open study door. There was silence for a moment and then the sound of running footsteps. Haldir bolted down the hallway so quickly that even to the Elves he was nothing but a blur. Galadriel stood up and followed, Thranduil very close behind her. They followed Haldir up the steps until they reached the floor with the princes' bedchambers. The king and queen slowed their pace and walked silently down the hallway. Then Orophin came sprinting from behind them and pushed them both out of the way. Thranduil followed him into Ithil's room. Galadriel, however, was led by the sound of Haldir's ragged breathing into Legolas's chambers. Sure enough, there was Haldir, kneeling next to the bed where a prostrate Legolas laid. He was trying to catch his breath and calm himself down simultaneously, which was not working well for him.

"Legolas!" Galadriel gasped, placing one pale hand over her mouth.

The prince's ashen face was covered with bruises. His chest and torso were scarred from the whip lashes and it was evident that many of his ribs were broken. Galadriel nearly screamed at the physical state of him and could only imagine how mentally scarred he would be- that is, if he lived, which didn't look like much of a possibility right now.

"Mani marte?" she asked, approaching the bed.

"Mordor… hin nîn… Ron cael na ungwal… Lye na il utu i' n'at… Mordor… my lady… they had been tortured… we could not find the others…" Haldir said through sharp breaths. "Lye ma ten' sen, nan'…"

"Na sel', Haldir. Tumba suul, Be calm, Haldir. Deep breaths,," said Galadriel. "Lle ant est. You need to rest."

Haldir shook his head. "Amin ant sint manka ro na coi. I need to know if he will live."

"Haldir…" Galadriel could see the grief on his face. It was past tears; it was becoming physical pain.

"Ro na amin mellon, hir nîn. Amin then dar ah ho. He is my friend. I will stay with him."

Galadriel nodded. "Vee' lle iest- As you wish-"

She was interrupted by a scream from down the hall that could only be Ithil's. Thranduil came to the door, leaning on it for support, looking rather sick. He breathing was hitched. He looked paler now than he had before. Galadriel ran to his side. "How long until Elrond arrives?"

"A few days."

Aragorn gripped the reigns hard as to not fall off of his horse and face the fate of being crushed by its very quick-moving hooves. In all honesty, Aragorn was very scared. For starters, his stallion was running so fast that he had no control of it anymore. To add to that, he had been separated from his father. But the main reason behind his terror was that his best friend had spent the last three months in Mordor and had not yet returned. Aragorn attempted to avoid thinking of the possible fate of his companion, but it was easier said than done. Anything could've happened to Legolas. Thranduil had summoned them to Mirkwood to discuss this. Elrond had left with his sons immediately after receiving the message. Aragorn came out of his thoughts as his horse took a sharp turn to the left, causing him to almost let go. The Ranger held on tighter now. He could hear the footfalls of Elladen and Elrohir's horses on either side of him.

"Estel! Daro! Halt!"

Thankfully, Aragorn's horse understood Elven commands and stopped promptly. Aragorn sighed and swallowed hard, suddenly feeling nauseated. "What?"

"You go on to the palace. Elladen and I are going to go back and search for Ada."

"But-"

Elladen gave Aragorn a deadly glare and continued. "Once you get there, tell Lord Thranduil that we are on our way."

"All right," he agreed reluctantly. "Valar be with you."

"And you as well. Noro lim, Fallan!"

"Namarië, toror' nîn," said Elrohir before he galloped off after his brother.

Aragorn waited for a moment then took a deep breath. There was something about Mirkwood that made him extremely uneasy. The forest seemed to be alive, but with a dark energy. The air was hot and sultry, yet it made him shiver. There would be a rustling in the bushes, and then he would turn and find nothing there. And it felt like someone was constantly watching him…

Aragorn didn't continue at the pace that he had been going before- he didn't have Elladen and Elrohir to command his stallion- but he did go rather fast because of the feeling that there were eyes upon him. He didn't know how long he had been riding when he had reached the palace of Mirkwood. He dismounted and led his horse to the doors where one of the Elves offered to take it to the stables. Aragorn handed the Elf the reigns and forced open the heavy, double wooden doors, but when he entered, there was no one there.

"Lord Thranduil?" he called, his voice reverberating off the marble walls. Aragorn glanced around nervously and slowly entered into the great hall. His footsteps echoed in the vast room, no matter how quietly he walked. "Lord Thranduil?" he repeated. He sighed and then jumped at the sound of a slamming door. There were running footsteps from upstairs. Aragorn looked up and saw the shimmer of Galadriel on the highest floor.

"Estel," she said, leaning over the banister, "Thank Valar. Your father's been very worried."

"Ada is…here?"

"He's tending to Ithil at the moment. There's someone up here who could use your company, Estel."

The first person that popped into Aragorn's mind was Legolas. He bolted up the staircase and climbed the twenty flights of a hundred stairs to where the prince's bedchamber was. Quite out of breath, Aragorn stopped at the beginning of the corridor, then walked to Legolas' bedroom door. He peered in, but what he saw was most definitely not what he expected.

Legolas was lying perfectly prostrate on the bed. His face was pallid and his chest was a maze of scars. There was a bandage on his torso; Aragorn guessed it was binding broken ribs. The Elf's eyebrows were knotted in pain and he occasionally cried out in pain. Kneeling beside the bed was Haldir, who had succumbed to sleep a few hours ago. Aragorn entered silently, never taking his eyes off Legolas, much as he wanted to. He stood behind Haldir and leaned against the wall. The Lothlórien Elf suddenly woke and spun around. His distressed sapphire eyes widened with relief as he saw Aragorn.

"Estel," he said hoarsely.

"You do not look well, mellon nîn," said Aragorn, noticing how pale and tired Haldir looked. "You should go back to sleep."

Haldir shook his head. "I failed him once; I will not fail him again. Here I will stay until Legolas is well."

Aragorn gave him a quizzical look. "You have not failed him, Haldir."

"But I have, Estel. I was too late to save him and too late returning him home. If I would've tried harder to talk him out of going with the dispatch…" Haldir stopped, his voice hitching in his throat.

"This is the work of the Dark Lord, Haldir. Do not blame yourself. You are not responsible for the hostility of the creatures in the Black Land."

"Then why do I feel like I am?"

"Because you care for Legolas as I care for him. I, too, should have not allowed him to go, but I did." Aragorn suddenly realized how guilty he really did feel about the whole situation. Maybe if he had talked Legolas out of going, then Legolas would not be dying. "Legolas was only acting on his duty to his father, his people, and himself. He would have gone to matter what we would've said."

Haldir didn't say anything. He turned back to the bed and sighed. "Your father was here earlier. He took one look at Legolas and all of the hope fell out of his eyes. If not even the healers have hope, then…"

"Then we hope harder."

"Estel," Haldir remarked with a slight smile. "Perhaps it was fate for that to be your name."

"I definitely have to do it more due to the kind of people I make friends with," said Aragorn, making light of the situation.

"We, too, have prayed many times for your good health."

Aragorn smiled and kneeled next to Haldir. "My father will try his best to heal Legolas."

"I know."

Elladen suddenly burst into the room, a large cut in his side, balancing his twin on his back

"Elladen!" Aragorn cried, standing again and catching his brother before he collapsed. "What happened?"

"Elrohir and I were attacked," he replied through ragged breaths. Elladen grasped his ribs and hissed in pain. "There is an army of Orcs on their way… they've come to reclaim their prisoners…and for Thranduil…"

Elladen went limp in Aragorn's arms and Elrohir fell to the floor.

"Ada!" Aragorn called.

Elrond answered. He was slightly out of breath, and seemed agitated until he saw his sons. "What happened, Estel?"

"I wasn't with them, Ada. Elladen said that-"

There was an ominous boom that echoed into the upper floors.

"That an army of Orcs were coming to Mirkwood."

All was silent for a moment. The stillness was interrupted by another rumble from downstairs. The Orcs were trying to break their way through the doors. Elrond took Elladen from Aragorn and looked his foster son squarely in the eye. "You must hold them back, Estel. Do all that you can, for if Legolas and Ithil are once again in the hands of the Orcs, they will certainly die."

The solemnity of his father's voice made Aragorn feel as though all hope was lost, but he knew what he had to do. He turned to Haldir. "If you do not want to fail Legolas, please, fight by my side."

"You don't even have to ask."

"Be careful," Elrond said. "Pray that the Valar are smiling upon you this day. Now go!"

Aragorn and Haldir left swiftly and began the great descent of the staircase. Understanding the urgency that they get down there as fast as possible, they vaulted over one of the railings and dropped lightly to the floor. Aragorn felt his knees buckle for a moment, but continued running. All had gone quiet, but soon there were the shouts of Elves mingled with the screams of the Orcs. But the Elves shouted not in the tongue of the people of Mirkwood, but in that of Lothlórien. Haldir silently thanked every one of his archers for coming to Mirkwood's aid, but he felt relieved a little too soon. The doors burst open and Elves and Orcs came pouring in, continuing their duels with each other. Haldir and Aragorn immediately threw themselves into the battle. They took it upon themselves to guard the staircase and, so, ended up fighting off a great number of Orcs.

The cries echoed in the great marble hall, but the freakish screams of the Orcs were the easiest to pick out. Soon, Mirkwood Elves were fighting amongst them, but none of them had come to aid the pair that fought in front of the steps. Aragorn was being forced farther and farther up the stairs until he stumbled on the back of his own heel. His elbow hit hard against the marble stair and his sword dropped out of his grip. The Orc that was advancing on him, however had little time to take advantage as Haldir thrust one of his daggers through the Orc's back. It let out a scream then collapsed. Haldir helped Aragorn to his feet and handed him his sword. Aragorn took it, even though his arm still pained a little.

It was getting difficult to see and to concentrate. Haldir could hear the painful cries of his archers, his friends. At least there were no more Orcs. They had been outnumbered bad enough as it was. Haldir just kept twirling his dagger wherever he saw an Orc. He had been weary already, before the siege had begun, but now he was completely exhausted. The only thing that kept him running was the burning feeling in his heart not to fail Legolas. He had finally managed to completely concentrate, when a familiar voice caught his ear.

"Haldir! Tua! Help!"

"Rumíl!" Haldir impulsively followed his brother's cries, leaving Aragorn by himself. He fought through the mass of Elves and Orcs, trying to reach his younger brother. There was hardly any space for him to move and just when he thought he was going to sooner be squished than find Rumíl, he found him. Rumíl was cornered by three very large Orcs. He had a knife as a weapon, nothing more. Haldir took advantage of the tumult and attacked the Orcs without them even knowing he was there. Both of them fell, dead, with blood pouring out of their throats. Helping Rumíl to his feet, Haldir saw that the young Elf was in no condition to be fighting. Scared out of his wits and a little roughed up, Haldir led him back to the stairs and set him up to aid Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel. As Rumíl started up the steps, an arrow cut through the masses and hit him in the back of the neck. He fell to his knees, the world spiralling around him.

"Rumíl!" Haldir cried. "No!" He kneeled behind his brother, supporting Rumíl's body against his own. Rumíl's eyes were blank, his pupil's swallowing the blue. Haldir swallowed hard. Anger coursed through his veins. For him, the battle had just begun…


	6. Chapter VI: Meanwhile

**CHAPTER VI - MEANWHILE**

Frodo shook slightly as the rain continued to pour down on them. Of course, with their luck, it wasn't a drizzle, an was an all-out downpour. He and Sam had been trying for the past few hours to keep the fire up, but the logs were just too wet. Gandalf hadn't returned yet, either, so they couldn't ask for his sorcery. Aragorn told them to keep working anyway. Frodo guessed it was because he didn't want the hobbits worrying. If that had been his plan, it did not work. No matter what Frodo did, his eyes kept trailing back to the pale, unconscious figure on the ground, Boromir and Aragorn still on either side of him. Gimli, Merry and Pippin were off getting more wood for the fire, even though it was a completely pointless task. Frodo paused and strained his ears to hear the low voices of the Men.

"Should he really be unconscious for this long, Aragorn?" Boromir whispered.

Aragorn didn't exactly answer, he just shrugged his shoulders for the sake of doing something. He was sick of not being able to do anything. His best friend was dying at his feet, and all he could do was sit there! Aragorn stood up and took a step back.

"Are you all right?" Boromir said, starting to rise up.

"Yea, I'm fine. Just… stay here with Legolas. I have to go for a walk," Aragorn said.

"All right," agreed Boromir, slightly confused.

Aragorn walked slowly to the edge of the camp then broke into a run.

Aragorn closed his eyes and tried to force himself to calm down. It was bad enough that Legolas had to relive the pain, the terror, the torture, but now he remembered it too. The battle in the Great Hall was nothing but a blur to him. He only remembered when it ended. The silence was awkward having fought for three hours with the screaming and the sound of metal clashing. He remembered Haldir's eyes as well; how deep and sorrowful they were. Haldir lifted his younger brother's corpse off the steps then went back upstairs, leaving the bodies of the Elves and, mostly, Orcs. When they reached the top of the stairs, Haldir halted and stood there for a moment. Aragorn decided that it was best not to say anything at the moment and to just return to Legolas' room.

"Ah. Here you are."

Aragorn was slightly startled. He turned to see who had spoken. "Gandalf, what are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you. It's been over an hour and Boromir was beginning to worry. It's understandable that you want solitude, Aragorn, but you would be doing much more good at the camp with the others."

"I know, but I… I can't look at Legolas. It reminds me too much of what happened."

"Yet you're sitting here recalling it anyway."

Aragorn opened his mouth to reply, but found that the Istari was right, as usual. He stood up and walked with Gandalf back to the camp. "What were you doing that took you so long? We worried for you."

"I was searching."

"For what?"

"Answers to all of your questions."

Aragorn should've guessed as much. "And what did you find?"

Gandalf didn't reply as they had now returned. Gimli stood up and approached the pair. "Where have you two been?"

"Searching," Aragorn replied.

Gimli nodded sceptically, wondering what his companions had been searching for. However, he said nothing and went back to help Merry and Pippin with the fire. Boromir didn't get up. In fact, he hardly showed any sign of observing Aragorn and Gandalf's return. He just stared at Legolas' ashen face and grew more and more worried. The Ranger came and stooped next to him.

"Has anything happened?"

Boromir shook his head and sighed. "How long has it been since…?"

"Five years. His body healed quickly after he came to, but he's never been the same. As you saw, he hardly eats and never sleeps if he can help it."

"What happened?"

Aragorn glanced around and saw that all of the hobbits were still awake. "I'm not in a position to tell you."

Boromir nodded. He didn't know why he was so concerned for someone he hardly even knew, but since he saw all of the scars… it haunted him to think what Legolas had gone through. He was very tired, but refused to let himself go to sleep. He felt that it was his duty to make sure that Legolas was all right. It was why the Fellowship was together. Because no matter how little they knew about each other, they had to help each other and make sure the others were okay. Even though it had been very little time since they had left Rivendell, Boromir knew that he would not abandon these people because it was his duty to make certain that they were well. As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, Boromir had an idea.

"One of us should take him back to Rivendell to be healed by Elrond."

Everyone turned and looked at him. They all silently agreed that it was a simple enough idea and that it would work. Gandalf and Aragorn knew the great deal of service Elrond had given Legolas before.

"That's…not necessary," murmured Legolas breathlessly. He tried to sit up, but laid back down as a sharp pain flickered in his chest where the wound from the Warg was. Even though he had been unconscious for quite some time, he was still very tired and slightly terrified. "Aragorn, I-"

"Shh."

"But, Aragorn-"

"Save your breath, my friend."

"Aragorn… I saw him…"

Lines of concern came across Aragorn's already weary face. "Saw who, Legolas?"

Legolas' half-closed eyes wandered over to the hobbits. They all stared at him and waited for him to say something. Though they still looked a little nervous, they were overjoyed. Legolas was clearly frightened by what he was about to say. He shook his head. "I don't think it was anyone… never mind."

Aragorn knew he was lying. Something had scared Legolas, and he doesn't scare easily. Nevertheless, Aragorn did not press him for answers. He had gone through enough already and did not need a third-degree interrogation. Aragorn told everyone to get some sleep, to which they immediately agreed. He, however, did not go to sleep until Legolas did…


	7. Chapter VII: Misery

**CHAPTER VII - MISERY**

Legolas had been reluctant to sleep. He was afraid that the memory would come back, and rightly so, except this time the dreams were much more vivid than usual. The minute he closed his eyes he saw the battle that had been going on downstairs after he had been brought home…

Haldir cut swiftly through any Orc that dared to challenge him. He killed with more precision than he ever had. It was a sick little game of revenge, except the bet on the line was death. He wasn't paying attention to anything around him anymore. When the battle was over he was hardly aware. His tears had stopped long ago. Soberly, he approached the stairs and lifted Rumíl's body into his arms. He ascended the stairs, again losing track of where he was. After what seemed like hours of thought he found himself in the corridor of the princes' bedchambers. The realization of his brother's death hit him then. A tear slipped down his cheek. He choked on the lump that had formed in his throat and collapsed to one knee. A suppressed cry escaped his lips. Haldir's other knee gave and he bowed over Rumíl, crying.

"Haldir?" asked Lord Elrond as he came out of Ithil's room.

Haldir heard him in the back of his mind, but didn't do anything about it. He choked again on his sobs and held his brother tighter. He heard Elrond's footsteps as they walked off to wherever. Someone returned a moment later; an Elf.

"Elbereth…"

It was Orophin. Haldir felt his heart tear and a few more tears fell down his cheeks.

"Haldir, mani marte? Haldir, what happened?"

"It was my fault…" Haldir replied quietly.

Orophin still looked a little confused. He knelt down in front of Haldir and put a hand on his shoulder. "Rumíl's death is at the fault of the Orcs."

"I should've been protecting him…"

"You did."

Haldir shook his head. "If I had been more concentrated on him-"

"Then it would be you who would be dead."

Haldir looked up, his face scarlet from failed attempts to stop his tears. He stared into Orophin's eyes then looked away. "I'm sorry…" He bowed his head again and allowed himself to cry. Orophin swallowed hard and squeezed Haldir's shoulder in reassurance. It nauseated him to see his younger brother like this and, though he felt the need to stay as moral support, silently left Haldir and Rumíl in the hall…

Aragorn was feeling rather exhausted after the battle (even though he had fought in larger, more critical ones). However, it subsided the minute he walked into Legolas' room. The air was warm and sultry, as though Legolas' health had permeated into the air. Aragorn sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed aside a lock of the prince's hair. Legolas tensed slightly. Aragorn drew back his hand and rubbed his eyes. Why was he so tired? He had hardly noticed that he had wavered until he saw Elrond gazing down at him. "You should get some rest, Estel."

"I'm not that tired," he lied, sitting up.

"Rest would still be good for you."

"We can set up a cot here if you'd like, so that you can remain with Legolas," said the Elf-lord.

"I can sleep on the floor, Ada-"

"Nonsense. I'll be back in a moment."

Aragorn shook his head at his father's persistence. Elrond returned shortly, finding his foster son fast asleep on the very edge of the bed. The Elf-lord smiled. He draped the blanket over Estel, but did not move him. The next morning, Aragorn was still asleep and ended up not waking until noon. He was greeted by Galadriel, who had come to inspect the healing of Legolas' wounds. "Good afternoon," she said.

"Good… afternoon?"

Galadriel smiled weakly. "Yes, Estel, afternoon."

"How is he?" Aragorn asked, after a moment of watching her tend to Legolas.

"He's… he's improving," she replied, taking time to carefully choose her words. Legolas was improving, that was true, but he was not beyond the line of danger yet- no, not at all. Galadriel feared that it would be worst when Legolas was conscious, able to recall everything, relive the horror he had experienced in the bowels of Mordor. A small piece of her heart wished that this would be the end of Legolas' pain forever. "You really should get back to sleep, Estel. I believe that you are going to need to be rested for whatever comes next.

Aragorn shook his head. "There is too much to be concerned with for me to fall asleep now. How is Haldir?"

Galadriel's voice was more forlorn now than it had been when she vaguely replied about Legolas' condition. "He is not well, at all. He feels so much guilt. I think that Haldir believed that it was his duty to take care of everyone, especially those he cared about. With his brother and Legolas… I think it's just too much of a learning curve for him. Maybe not too much, but all of it was so abrupt. He can't stand the fact that there's nothing he can do for them. He's feels so responsible…" Galadriel put her palm to her forehead, suddenly looking very distressed. Her hand moved down to her mouth and she began to cry. Aragorn slid down the mattress and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Do you want me to fetch someone?"

Galadriel hastily wiped away her tears. "No. I'll be all right. I think I just… need to think."

"I insist you take a rest. I will tend to the others for you."

"That's all right, Estel. Really."

Aragorn gazed directly into her eyes. "I believe that you are going to need to be rested for whatever comes next."

A faint smile crept across Galadriel's face and she nodded. "I'll just finish up here, then I think I'll go for a walk."

"Where's Haldir?"

Galadriel tilted her head in the direction of the corridor. "Thank you, Estel."

"Of course, hiril nîn," Aragorn said. He stood up and bowed slightly the left. The hallway seemed darker than usual, partially because there was no sunlight that day. The candles lighting the hall were burning down and a few had gone out. Aragorn glanced over to the window and saw Haldir standing there; back perfectly straight, staring out into the rain. Walking up and standing next to him, Aragorn noticed how blank the Elf's eyes were. They were still an intense, pale blue, but were so emotionless it was almost frightening. "Haldir," he said, trying to get Haldir's attention. Aragorn wasn't sure whether he had been ignored or if Haldir was so detached that he didn't hear him. "Haldir," he repeated, slightly louder.

"What?" Haldir demanded in an icy tone of voice.

"The Lady Galadriel tells me-"

"Well she's wrong! No matter how much you pity me, tell me that it wasn't my fault, it always will be!" Haldir snapped, facing Aragorn and glaring at him. "I don't need to be lectured or tended to, so you can keep your pathetic, unwanted explanations to yourself and leave me alone." This, he said in a less harsh voice, but still sounded extremely hostile and unemotional. He turned his gaze back to the window and was silent. Aragorn nodded slightly then returned to Legolas' room. Galadriel was just leaving when he entered. He could feel the atmospheric changed just walking over the threshold.

"I heard what he said and apologize for his words," she said.

"No need. I understand."

Galadriel nodded and left.

Aragorn resumed his seat on the edge of the mattress. He placed his hand over Legolas' and hoped that, wherever his mind was trapped, that he was aware of the need for him to be all right, and soon…

Haldir felt guilt for many things, but not for the things he said to Aragorn. He did not need anyone to look after him, he especially didn't need to be treated like a child. He was over three thousand years old, so you would think that everyone would realize that he could handle grief, he just needed time and solitude. For some reason or another, though, everyone felt that he needed them to be there, that he was too blinded by tears to even look after himself. Haldir had made it this far, knowing more sorrow than any of the Elves in Lothlórien except, perhaps, Galadriel. His mother's death, the tragedy of too many battles, the suicide of his father, witnessing the murder of his wife and daughter, the mortal conditions of two of his dearest friends, and now the loss of his younger brother. Each time he grieved immensely, and every time he came out alive. Haldir firmly believed that to overcome his emotions, he simply had to harden until he became like ice and the feelings of misery and grief would be unable to pierce him. It would take time for him to heal from his most recent loss, and for him to overcome his feeling of responsibility for Rumíl's death, but he would come out alive as always, and would add another layer to his shield. Haldir lifted his chin and gazed up into the cloudy night sky and felt him heart become icier…

Elrond, Aragorn, and Elladen scurried back and forth across the hall for days. Thranduil had not permitted the Mirkwood healers to do anything, partially because they were still tending to those who had fought in the Great Hall and the other reason being that he knew they would be doing nowhere near as good a job as Elrond, Elladen, and Aragorn. Haldir had vanished for a few days, but they tried not to worry. He had taken Rumíl's body and buried him in the forest where the floor had thus far been undisturbed. When he returned he assumed the duty of watching over Legolas. There was nothing Elrond, Elladen, and Aragorn could do for him anymore and Haldir knew that their skills would be greatly appreciated with the other healers. Galadriel had offered to stay with him, but Haldir insisted that she try to take her mind off of the princes and heal those that could be healed.

Minutes crept by like hours, but eventually transformed into days, which turned into weeks and there was no sign of life from Legolas except for the occasional hiss of pain. Haldir was sure that he was going to go mad with anxiety. He paced across Legolas' room, which could only keep one busy for so long as it was a rather tiny room. One night, when it was so silent it was eerie and it was particularly cold and rainy, Haldir used his last resort and literally got on his knees and begged the Valar to let Legolas live.

"Beleg Valar, nîn kyerm tanya lle Leith mellon-nîn tuulo' ho mori kaimel. Ro cael um n'umanat (?) a' ant sina naik. Leith mellon nîn…" Might Valar, I pray that you free my friend from his dark dreams. He has done nothing to deserve this pain. Free my friend… That was the first time in many weeks that Haldir had spoken and the first time in centuries that he had prayed. He glanced over at Legolas, but did not see any immediate improvement. With a sceptical sigh, he rose back to his feet. Almost as soon as he did this he heard frantic coughing from across the hall. He sprinted into Ithil's room and found him lying on his left shoulder, gasping for breath as though he had just returned from an almost-fatal battle. "Galadriel!!" Haldir yelled. He heard his voice ricochet off the marble walls and echoe on the stairwell. "GALADRIEL!!!!" It took a few moments- maybe even minutes- before they came. Aragorn and Thranduil burst through the door, followed by Elladen and Elrond, and finally a very weary Galadriel. Ithil began to cough again.

"Sel' dad, Ithil," Galadriel said, taking his hand. "Aragorn, fetch a cloth and some cold water, please."

"Of course."

It took nearly a half hour for the healers to get Ithil partially alert, and once they did he began to spill his tale, though only in small, broken phrases.

"Mordor… the Orcs… Isilme…" his eyes suddenly grew wide and horrified. "Isilme!" Ithil sat up, much too quickly due to his injuries. Thranduil sat on the mattress opposite Galadriel and took his son's hand. Tears were forming in his eyes. Ithil sounded like a frightened young child. His shoulders began to tremble, but he didn't cry. His eyes widened and he threw his head back and screamed. He remained there for a moment, gazing unseeingly at the ceiling then wavered to the left and collapsed in Thranduil's arms. Ithil's breathing was heavy and ragged, his entire body was shaking with terror. Finally his eyes fluttered open again, revealing frightened, sorrowful, sapphire eyes. He stared up at Thranduil as though he had not seen him in ages. "Ada…"

"Yes, Ithil, I'm here. Calm down. You're going to be all right," the Elf-king said, more so to convince himself than encourage Ithil. "Everything's going to be all right."

"Ada…"

Galadriel handed the damp cloth to Thranduil and left. She ran down the hallway and down the stairwell to the Great Hall, with Aragorn close behind her. With great effort she pushed open the doors.

"Mae govannen, hiril nîn."

Aragorn's jaw dropped.

"Mithrandir…" Aragorn breathed. He retreated a step in his shock.

"Where is he?" the wizard asked swiftly.

"Upstairs," Galadriel replied. "Thank you, Mithrandir."

He nodded and, at a brisk walk, went up to Legolas' chambers. Aragorn want one step behind him, not taking his eyes off the Istari. They finally entered the dark, stifling room and Gandalf approached the prostrate Elf. Aragorn felt suddenly nauseated when he saw fear and defeat flash in Gandalf's old eyes. He leaned against the doorframe and waited anxiously. Gandalf stood there for a moment and just stared at Legolas' face. To Aragorn it was an age before Gandalf moved and he was feeling extremely sick with worry.

Up until Gandalf came, Aragorn had, with some effort, convinced himself that Legolas was going to be perfectly fine and once this was over everything was going to go back to normal. Now that the wizard had come though, anything he said would have Aragorn firmly believing it. If Gandalf said that Legolas was going to die, then that would mean that Legolas was going to die, no ifs, ands, or buts. Aragorn didn't think he could remain sane if Gandalf said that.

Finally Gandalf placed his hand on Legolas' forehead. Aragorn thought he had been waiting for him to move, but when he did, Aragorn felt his stomach lurch and retreated into the hallway. Calm down, Aragorn he told himself repeatedly. Once, though, he noticed that the voice was not his own. He had long since slid down to the floor and, now, looked up. There stood Galadriel with a faint smile on her face and tears rolling down her cheeks.

"What?" Aragorn asked, his voice shaking. "What?!"

Galadriel opened her mouth to speak, but only inhaled sharply. A weak smile flickered across her tired face. Aragorn wasn't sure whether it meant that Legolas was all right or that she didn't want to reveal her sorrow.

"Oh my Valar…" Aragorn breathed, guessing that Legolas was dead.

There was hardly a second of silence until: "Calen!!"

Aragorn's chest contracted. Legolas was still alive. He stood up and stumbled into his companion's bedchamber.

"All is well, Aragorn," said Gandalf, turning to face him. "He's just a little bit shaken. Perhaps if you stay with him for a while; I must speak with Galadriel."

Aragorn nodded, unable to find his voice, and took Gandalf's place beside Legolas' bed. "Suilad, mellon nîn. It's far beyond good to see you awake. How do you feel?"

Legolas stopped staring at the ceiling and glanced at Aragorn with the most sorrowful eyes the Man had ever seen. Aragorn's heart shattered into pieces so small that they could easily pass through the eye of a needle. Tears began to sting behind his eyes. "I can only hope, mellon nîn," Legolas said hoarsely.

"They were late to be tended to by healers," Gandalf said, leaning heavily upon his staff as he, Galadriel, Elrond, and Thranduil sat in Ithil's room.

"That would be at no one's fault but mine, Mithrandir," said Haldir from the doorway. "My brother and I went first to Lothlórien only to find that Galadriel had departed sooner than planned. We rode to Mirkwood as fast as we could, but lost a good number of weeks in doing so."

"You did the right thing, Haldir. No healers but a select few-" with a side glance at Elrond and Galadriel- "could have done anything for them, but…" the wizard fell silent for a moment and carefully chose his next words. "The lost time has shown itself greatly in their health. Ithil seems in better condition. Legolas, however, seems to have poison behind his wounds. I believe that the poison has been there for quite some time and, though it is a rather small amount, has caused and is causing severe damage that is aggravating his wounds. There is naught more that I can do for him."

Galadriel and Elrond bowed their heads. "There is naught that we can do, either."

"Is he going to…?" Thranduil asked after taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Gandalf placed his hand on the Elf-king's shoulder. "I am truly sorry, but your sons will die."


	8. Chapter VIII: I' Quel Elen, I' For Elen

**CHAPTER VIII – I' QUEL ELEN, I' FOR ELEN**

"A-Aragorn…?"

The man lifted his head off the edge of the mattress and looked frantically at the Elf. "Is something wrong, Legolas? Do you want me to get the healers?"

"No. Will you help me up?"

"Legolas, I don't want to aggravate your injuries."

"Please, Aragorn?"

"I don't want anything to happen to you on my account. I don't want you to…"

"Aragorn, this will not kill me. Now please help me."

Aragorn caved. He walked around to the other side of the bed and helped Legolas sit up. The Elf put his arm over Aragorn's shoulder and staggered to his feet, suppressing a cry of pain. He felt Aragorn tense for a moment then relax as Legolas lifted his head, showing that he was still conscious and alive. "The balcony," he whispered. The pair walked together, Aragorn sometimes having to pause when Legolas became overwhelmed with pain or the urge to faint, but never once did Legolas ask to return to his bed. Aragorn admired his determination now more than he ever had. They finally reached the glass doors that opened onto the balcony. The glass was etched with frost and the balcony itself covered with a thin layer of snow. Aragorn now thoroughly disliked this idea, but Legolas continued. The Elf pressed his bare shoulder against the cold glass. The cold wind bit at them both, but Legolas had never been so grateful for something cold. After the Mordor incident, he never wanted to see another flame. After a moment of basking in the icy wind he took another few steps forward. Outside was where he has wished to go and outside is where he had made it, so, as to not do himself more harm (though being outside in the middle of winter without a shirt or cloak couldn't be too good either), he halted. Aragorn felt him starting to shake with fatigue and moved to turn around and go back inside, but the Elf still had enough strength to defy him.

"Legolas, we're going to freeze out here," Aragorn said.

"I only asked you to help me this far, you may go back inside if you like," Legolas said sincerely.

"And leave you out here?"

Legolas shrugged. His knees suddenly gave and he collapsed into the fine blanket of snow on the marble balcony. He was very tired and knew that he probably should be sleeping, but he was too tired to sleep; if that was even possible. He rolled onto his back, his arms stretched out like wings, closed his eyes, and took a very deep breath, filling his lungs with clean, cold air, that seemed to make a large difference to his health. "I' quel sul… i' for sul… The good wind… the north wind…" he sang quietly. Legolas slowly opened his eyes again and gazed up. The moon had not graced the forests with her presence this night, but the stars… never before had they shone brighter. Legolas knew all those stars by name, so he could call upon them like dear friends, and some he loved. His mother's star shone in the north and eleven new stars shone around it. He felt his eyes begin to sting at the memory of his lost brothers. "I' quel elen… i' for elen… The good star… the north star…"

Aragorn laid down in the snow next to Legolas, his arms also outstretched, almost touching the prince's pale fingertips. He heard Legolas whispering, but could not understand what he said. The stars shone brightly tonight. Aragorn wished that he knew the names of them all, so that he could know them rather than just admire them. His worry had subsided slightly as he glanced at his companion, seeing how at peace he had become now that he was outside. This time, Aragorn heard what Legolas was humming to himself: "I' quel elen… i' for elen…"

"Aragorn?"

"Hn?"

"Nevermind," Legolas said with a sigh. It would've been extremely childish to ask anyways. He shouldn't be thinking that way, but it was easier said than done. Was he going to die? He felt as though he would. Earlier, when he had been inside, he had gone so numb that he thought he was dead, and then the searing pain of everything came back and Legolas wondered if this was the way death was; toying with your emotions and making you wonder just when it was going to happen, how you were going to spend your last moment; numbness followed by a pain that no living thing deserved to endure. As Legolas came out of his thoughts, he realized that he was crying. When he breathed in, a distressed cry liberated itself from his lips.

"Legolas?"

If he opened his mouth he knew all there would be was a sorrowful noise. A cold hand clasped around his. "Nîn na aut a' gurth. I'm going to die"

Aragorn sat up and moved closer to Legolas. "Don't say that, mellon nîn. You're… You're going to be fine. Everything's going to be all right," he said, his voice reflecting that he was on the verge of tears himself. Aragorn slowly lifted Legolas up into his arms, steadying the Elf's neck body against his shoulder. Legolas wanted to sob, but restrained himself to a few tears. Even then his eyes were mournful and Aragorn noticed that, if you stared into them long enough, you could see the stars dancing in the deep wells of his eyes, making them sparkle deceivingly. "The good star, the North Star," he said quietly…


	9. Chapter IX: The Prince's Tale

**CHAPTER IX – THE PRINCE'S TALE**

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked in a low whisper.

"Yes, Sam?" replied the hobbit, at the same volume.

"Do you think Legolas is all right? I mean, I've never seen anyone look so scared before."

"Nor have I, Sam. Gandalf and Aragorn seemed especially uneasy about it. They kept saying that this had happened in the past."

"Your guess is as good as mine, Mr. Frodo." After a pause, Sam said, "The sun's on her way up. I think I'll get breakfast started; I don't think that anyone got a proper night's sleep." Sam crawled out from beneath his blankets and stretched out his arms with a wide yawn, then busied himself with cooking. This morning's breakfast would involve less maintenance since every piece of wood within a five league radius would be wet from last night's downpour.

Frodo put his arms behind his head and sighed. This mystery about Legolas' past was deeply troubling him. He thought about it for a long while until he was interrupted by Sam announcing that breakfast was ready. Everyone else had awoken and were now sitting together on either rocks or logs as the ground, too, was moist with last night's rain. Legolas was not sitting among them; he was sleeping at the far side of camp near the remaining ashes of the fire. Aragorn was sleeping about a foot away.

"I think it would be in our best interest to remain here and recover our strength. It would mean that we would have to go at a faster pace tomorrow, but having a decent rest would be worth it," Boromir said, stabbing aimlessly at the food on his plate.

"No, we must keep going. The Enemy may be aware of our position and we cannot put ourselves or the task in danger. We cannot afford to lose time now, either," said Gandalf.

"Should I be waking Strider?" Sam asked, swallowing his last mouthful of breakfast.

The wizard shook his head. "Let him rest; he needs it."

"What about Legolas?" Frodo asked.

"Let him rest as well. Boromir has already built a stretcher for him to be carried, much as he may dislike it. Aggravating his would may do worse harm that you know," Gandalf said, his voice quieting.

"Gandalf, I think we have a right to know what happened to Legolas that is causing all of this," Frodo said with an unintended harshness. He immediately bit his tongue.

"You must understand, Frodo that Legolas has not revealed his past to you for your own benefit. His past is- in the simplest terms- a horror story; the ones that haunt you, make you bow before them because you have been so beaten down by them you don't have the strength to defy them. Murder. Pain. Grief. Terror. I ask all of you not to press him for answers. If or when he wants to tell you, he will."

Frodo swallowed hard and nodded. He glanced at Legolas, who was still asleep, and saw that Gandalf was right; Legolas did appear to be in pain, afraid, and sad, even as he slept. Frodo remembered Bilbo telling him that Elves only shut their eyes to sleep if they are injured or extremely tired. The hobbit said nothing else on the topic.

An hour later, the Fellowship packed camp. As the hobbits scurried about, Boromir went to wake up Aragorn. The son of the Steward of Gondor did his best to be quiet as to not wake the prince. Gently, he budged Aragorn's shoulder with his foot. The Ranger must've been in a deep sleep for it took Boromir a few minutes to get him awake.

"What time is it?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Nearly ten, I'd say. I regret having to wake you; you slept as though you hadn't rested in a long while."

"I was up with Legolas most of the night and into the early hours of the morning. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but I suppose that I didn't realize how tired I was."

"You'll need energy for today. Gandalf doesn't want to worsen the Elf's condition or wake him up now that he's asleep, so we're carrying him on a stretcher that I built this morning."

Aragorn looked relieved to hear those words. He knew that Legolas had not had a proper night's sleep since "It" happened, and even that was a long period for any Elf to go without rest. These thoughts made him wonder how Ithil was faring.

"We're leaving now, Aragorn. I'll need help getting Legolas onto the stretcher."

The Ranger quickly rolled up his blanket and tucked it into his pack. He and Boromir laid their cloaks over the wood of the stretcher to make it more comfortable and Boromir laid his rolled blanket at one end of it as a makeshift pillow. Just as the Fellowship was making its way out, Boromir and Aragorn lifted Legolas slowly onto the stretcher and joined the rest in the continuation of their trek.

They kept a good pace all that morning. Thankfully, the terrain had been mostly flat and grassy, so Legolas would not be woken by a careless foot placement on a rocky hillside. When the late afternoon came about, the hobbits asked for a quick rest. Gandalf allowed this and Boromir and Aragorn did not argue. They gently set the stretcher on the ground and then sat down and took long draughts from their waterskins. After the hobbits had also had a drink and something to eat to hold them over until dusk, the Fellowship started off again for the remainder of the afternoon. At about seven o'clock they began searching for a place to make camp for the night. Their swiftness slowed as they all kept eyes out for areas with tree cover. As Boromir tried to squint through the growing darkness, he heard Legolas shift positions on the stretcher- the first sign of life they had seen in him all day. The Elf shifted onto his back and opened his eyes a little less than halfway. He drew in a sharp breath and held it for a moment before exhaling. It seemed to Boromir that Legolas had glanced up at him before closing his eyes again.

"I think I may have found a place to set camp, but I would like to ensure that it is safe from enemies. Aragorn, if you would accompany me, please," said Gandalf.

"Of course."

Again, the stretch was lightly set down. Aragorn quickly followed Gandalf into the small patch of trees. The hobbits all heaved the packs off their backs and collapsed onto the ground. Gimli approached Boromir, who was sitting next to the head of the stretcher.

"How is he?" Gimli asked. Much as he disliked the Elf, it was never easy to see someone in this amount of pain.

"The wound is healing," Boromir replied. He did not want to say anything about his uncertainty or about the vague facts he learned of Legolas' past. He was about to open his mouth again when Legolas stirred. His sapphire eyes opened completely this time, though they were fighting being closed.

"My brothers and I had been sent as ambassadors to Mordor," he began, almost in a whisper. "Orcs had been trespassing into my father's realm, killing innocents as they pleased. We met with one of the generals and informed them that if any of them were seen in Mirkwood again, they would be killed without warning. There were some soldiers there who had heard this and as my brothers and I were departing, they attacked us. We were greatly outnumbered and were thrown in the dungeons. For nearly ten months we were captives there, but were not left in the cells to rot. We were…" he paused. "The Orcs saw no reason to kill us swiftly and tortured us slowly. They burned us, beat us, and branded us. Eleven of by brothers were murdered…" Another long pause in which Legolas had to regain his emotional composure. "Calen, Ithil, and I were separated. I was taken to a tower. There was something there that…it…" Legolas' voice hitched and he was shaking slightly.

"Legolas, you don't have to tell us," Boromir said, seeing the Elf's sudden distress.

"Sauron was in that room; I've never felt something so evil and impure. I barely remember what happened after that. Ithil and I were rescued by Haldir of Lothlórien. They never found Calen. Haldir and his men risked returning to Mordor and found the bodies of my brothers. We buried them next to my mother," Legolas said. He decided to leave it at that.

"My Gods… I'm so sorry, Legolas," Boromir bowed his head. He couldn't even begin to comprehend Legolas' grief, nor did he wish to. He heard someone sniffling behind him. There stood the hobbits with wide, terrified eyes; Pippin was crying. Frodo no longer wished to know what had happened.

Soon after Aragorn and Gandalf returned bearing good news of the forest, but presented it to a suddenly depressed group. Aragorn and Boromir picked the stretched back up and bore it to the area that had been chosen for that night's sleep. That is, if anyone _could_ sleep after hearing the tale of Legolas, one of the remaining princes of Mirkwood...

Boromir knew that what Legolas had said had been extremely vague compared to what he may have said had the hobbits not been listening. Well, elusive or not, Boromir was finding it very hard to sleep. He turned onto his back and then onto his right side. He could see Pippin still shaking slightly under his blankets. Merry wasn't even trying to sleep; sitting up against a tree with his blanket over his legs, watching over his younger cousin and best friend. Boromir smiled and remembered a time when that would've easily been him looking over Faramir. "Trouble sleeping?"

Merry jumped slightly. "Yea. Just that Legolas and his brothers and everything." He shivered.

"I understand. Do you wish that you were still oblivious to his past?" Boromir asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

"I don't know. I'm glad that he trusts us enough to tell us something like that and now we aren't left guessing, but it frightened Pippin and me and I'm sure it made everyone else shiver too. You?"

"I'm relieved that he's told us," Boromir replied truthfully.

"I haven't seen any physical signs of his past, though, except for the fact that he doesn't eat. That's pretty hard to imagine when you're a hobbit," he said with a small laugh, making Boromir smile slightly. He, Aragorn, and Gandalf were the only members of the Fellowship that had seen the scars, the burn, and Boromir wondered if Legolas was going to reveal those eventually; most of him hoped not.

"Who's on watch?" Boromir asked.

"Gimli."

Boromir stood up and paced to where the Dwarf was sitting. "Evening," he said quietly. Glancing over, he saw Legolas not too far away.

"Evening," Gimli replied gruffly. "What brings you out here?"

"Trouble sleeping." Boromir sat down.

"The Elf's story?"

Boromir nodded.

"A tale like that would shake the toughest being. His strength and determination has earned him my respect-" Gimli suddenly halted and stood up. He glanced around and his hand automatically went to his axe.

"What did you hear?"

"Shh." Gimli stared into the forest for a long moment then relaxed and resumed his sitting position. "Thought I saw something in the trees. I think I might be getting paranoid."

"You can never be too careful when you're responsible for the safety of your companions," Boromir said, recalling a not-so-pleasant incident with his younger brother and a few soldiers. He shook it off and asked, "Who has next watch?"

"I offered to take the night."

"That is a benevolent task. I think that, besides the nights of late, we have been the only two unaffected by the emotions in the rest of the Fellowship."

"Well, that's changed hasn't it?"

"Ai, it has," Boromir said with an empty laugh. "Would you mind if I kept you company?"

"No, not at all, lad," Gimli replied.

For the rest of the night until dawn broke over the Fellowship the Man and Dwarf remained awake, conversing and sharing tales. Boromir came to learn that Gimli had felt a lot more sympathy and reverence towards the Elf than he had been letting on. Gimli discovered what a marvellous sense of humour Boromir had because of spending so much time with his younger sibling. Little by little, the Fellowship was growing closer together…


	10. Chapter X: Die

**CHAPTER X - DIE**

Over the next five days, the Fellowship's behaviour seemed to return to normal, except now the hobbits did not speak with Legolas out of respect, not fear. On the day that would mark their second week of travelling, they made camp at a place Gandalf referred to as Hollin. The hobbits quickly unpacked and made an exceptionally-sized fire, the blankets swathed around the shoulders. The January air was already unleashing its wrath, and Gandalf suspected some foul play on Saruman's part as well. That night, Sam used more proportions that usual to make dinner. "'Warm stomach, warm toes' my Gaffer used to say," he said as he stirred. The hobbits had their routine visit as their meal was prepared, the four remaining mortals had their smoke, and the Elf was nowhere to be seen. This was not unusual. Legolas had been going off on his own frequently since that night. He rarely even spoke with Gandalf anymore. The only time he came in contact with anybody was when Aragorn had to force him to sit down so that he could inspect the wound, which he did later that night.

"Will you just sit down!" the Ranger demanded after nearly ten minutes of arguing.

Legolas, tired of fighting and knowing that Aragorn would get his way (as he always did when it came to the prince's health), sat down and allowed Aragorn to complete his inspection.

"It's going to leave a scar, but it should be fine," he said.

"And what's another scar to me?" Legolas said quietly, casting down his eyes. He looked back up only when he stood and left Aragorn kneeling by the rock feeling frustrated.

"He can't just close into himself! Not again!" Aragorn said, rather loudly, to Gandalf during their watch. He knew that he sounded like a ranting teen, but that was how he felt.

"Aragorn, you must trust Legolas to make his own decisions. He is wise and knows much, even for his age. You're tired. Why don't you go to sleep?"

"Because," Aragorn said defiantly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You must've mistaken that for a question. Tomorrow morning a big decision must be made and I want you choosing with a full night's sleep."

"A decision about what?" Aragorn asked, though an uneasy feeling in his stomach told him that he already had an idea.

"Roads. Now go to sleep."

Aragorn nodded and left the wizard to his watch.

"You can reveal yourself, Legolas. He's gone to sleep and will not try to show you that he cares anymore this night."

Legolas stepped out from the bushes. "Which roads are you trying to select between?"

Gandalf bowed his head and took his pipe out of his mouth. "I believe that you have more right to know, so I will tell you. Legolas, tomorrow we will attempt to take the road to Caradhras, but if that fails, we will be taking the path through the mines of Moria."

"Caves?"

"Yes."

Legolas collapsed onto a rock, suddenly unable to breathe.

"You are an important asset to this Fellowship and, so, I hope that the way up Caradhras proves safer than I assume. If it does prove dangerous, though, I will not respect you any less if you decide to leave the Fellowship."

"No, Mithrandir, never. I swore an oath to protect these people and the cause. I know that Lord Elrond said that we did not have to go farther than we wished to, but I feel responsible for what happens to them."

"If it is possible, I hold you higher in my respects for deciding this. I only hope we won't have to put it to the test."

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan! Or take the west road to my city!" Boromir yelled above the howling wind. Under each arm he held Merry and Pippin, who were past the point of shivering and were in great danger of severe hypothermia. "It will be the death of the hobbits!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn cried. He had Sam and Frodo tucked under each arm, both who were quite pale and blue in the lips, also past shivering.

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria!" said Gimli loudly and somewhat eagerly.

Gandalf glanced forward at Legolas with eyes full of apology and regret. Legolas bit back the quivering feeling that had past through his body and nodded. Gandalf turned back to the Fellowship, his gaze falling on Frodo. "Let the Ringbearer decide."

Frodo looked at his four kinsmen, all of whom looked frozen, frightened, and in pain. This put the final weight on his decision. "We will go through the mines!"

"So be it."

Legolas bowed his head and did his best to bear the fact that he would be returning to memories that he had tried to push away for five years. They were memories that haunted his dreams, his thoughts; every time his eyes moved he saw another Orc with a whip. Those were all delusions, he knew it, but entering a place where the air was just as close and the light just as dim and the smell of death just as foul. Legolas strayed out of thought and next remembered walking on loose rocks and dead grass in the shadow of a dismal mountain. His breath was catching in his chest and for a moment he felt bonds around his wrists and heard his brothers cursing and fighting against the hold of the Orcs. The next four days were going to test his mental stability worse than he initially expected.

"We will rest here. Get a fire going, the hobbits will need heat," Gandalf commanded.

Boromir and Aragorn set immediately to finding spare pieces of wood among the rocks, a tedious and difficult job. It was nearly an hour before they had an adequate-sized flame. The hobbits sat closely together under a blanket as near to the flames as was safe. Soon they began to shiver. Boromir, Aragorn, Gimli, and Gandalf also stood near the fire, none of them saying anything. Legolas had grown slightly cold on the peaks of Caradhras, and would've eagerly welcomed a fire, if he had not begun to see flashes of frighteningly vivid images of Mordor. When the hobbits had finally become rather dry, it began to rain. Lightening split the sky and thunder made even the fire cower.

_"Legolas!"_

Gandalf quickly moved the Company into a sufficient-sized cave in the side of Moria, there was plenty of room for all of them and even a small pile of wood in the corner. The hobbits quickly built another fire.

All the fear and grief he had bottled inside him exploded with the thought of a cave. Legolas began to break down. The burnt, broken faces of his brothers quickly came and went in his mind. He fell to his knees in the mud, holding his slender hands over his ears as if that might make the screaming stop. Each boom of thunder was a cry for help or pain. The lightning was the crack of a burning whip. Legolas's breath was hitching in his throat, small gasps accompanied whenever he managed to inhale.

_"Legolas!"_

_Calen and Ithil kneeling next to Isilme's body in the pale torchlight_

_The dark room where the spirit of death and Sauron passed through his heart_

_Redome weeping as he wretched until death because of a severe poison_

_Ilmen falling to the floor with a dagger shoved into his heart_

_Anar's__ final rib cracking as he lay on a rack, followed by a scream_

"Stop it!" Legolas screamed, bowing over his knees, tears and rain falling down his cheeks. "STOP IT!"

"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, stumbling in the slippery grass as he sprinted out to him.

_"Legolas!"_

_"Naar ar' gurth e' Mordor!"_

_The Dark Room_

_"This isn't a way to live! We might as well all die!"_

_"If we don't bind and dress the wounds, he'll die…"_

_"No! I'm not going without him!"_

"_Isilme!"_

_Redome retching and weeping until the Halls accepted him_

_Ilmen's__ dagger_

_Snap_

_"Calen!"_

_"Gurth e' Mordor!"_

_"__Welcome, Prince of Mirkwood."_

_"We might as well all die!"_

_"He'll die!"_

_"I'm not going without him!"_

"LEGOLAS!" Aragorn shouted, grabbing his shoulders firmly.

_"Legolas, look at me! Please!"_

"_We might as well all die!"_

_"Calen!"_

"I'm not going without him!"

_"Nîn na aut a' gurth."_

_"Let me die!"_

_DIE!_

"LEGOLAS!" Aragorn cried, his eyes wide with worry and fear.

_DIE!_

And Legolas knew no more…


	11. Chapter XI: Suffering

**CHAPTER XI - SUFFERING**

"Gandalf!" Aragorn yelled just before he slipped and fell into the mud, winding him for a moment. He gasped for breath as he stood up, gripping his side. "There's something seriously wrong with him," he said, aware of how frightened he sounded. "We have to get him inside!"

Boromir and Gandalf came out of the cave (immediately feeling the dramatic temperature change) and followed Aragorn to Legolas's lifeless form. Gandalf knelt next to him, his old eyes running up at down the Elf's body. Seeing no signs of physical damage, he closed his eyes and placed one hand on Legolas's forehead. Slowing his breathing and clearing his mind, Gandalf entered his mind for a second, for he could bear nothing more. Screaming echoed through the whole of his being and Gandalf opened his eyes and quickly drew away. Aragorn and Boromir had placed themselves to lift Legolas up, but Gandalf raised his hand. "I don't know if he should be moved. That may only cause more him more trauma. Boromir, go back to the cave and get at least two blankets. Tell Gimli to stay with the hobbits."

"Yes, sir," Boromir said. He stood up and carefully ran back to fetch the requested blankets. He rummaged frantically through his pack until he finally found three blankets, one of them extremely thick. "Gimli, Gandalf asks that you remain here with the hobbits," he said and without even receiving an answer ran back out into the violent thunderstorm. He handed two of the blankets to Gandalf and spread the third across his open arms to protect them from some of the rain. Gandalf rolled the thinner one and placed it under the Elf's head. The thickest he laid over Legolas.

"I must speak with Gimli. Until then, I ask the two of you to remain here with him. If something happens, call for me."

"He's frightened," Boromir said quietly, almost so the rain nearly completely drowned him out and Aragorn did not hear him. "I wonder what he saw?"

"Nothing that Gandalf or Legolas wants us to see. This has never happened. I suppose that imagining that he was going to be back in a place so much like the one that left him bearing so much loss caused everything to resurface. It's different to see such horrors in one's dream than to see them when your eyes are open."

"I suppose this means I will never know the whole tale."

"You know about why they came to be in Mordor."

"But I must know what exactly happened."

Aragorn sighed. "Legolas told you that Orcs had been trespassing into his father's realm, that is why they had gone to Mordor. As they were leaving, they were ambushed. For ten months, he endured the torture of the Orcs. His brothers all died, except for Ithil. Haldir and his men saved them and took them to Lothlórien, hoping to find Galadriel, but she had already answered Thranduil's call and gone to Mirkwood. Lord Elrond was called too, and my brothers and I accompanied him. My brothers had gone to search for my father and I went forward to the palace. Shortly after I arrived, Elladen came rushing in with word that a group of Orcs had captured Elrohir and were coming to the castle to reclaim their prisoners. There was a battle in the Great Hall in which Haldir lost his younger brother. Ithil woke up first. Gandalf also arrived that night. Legolas woke the next day, but he was… You don't know true sorrow until you've seen someone look at you with eyes that Legolas had when he glanced up at me. It was horrible. Slowly, the princes improved. They ate some and they slept. That April, nearly six months after they had been brought home, Haldir and some other Elves returned to Mordor to retrieve the princes' bodies. Legolas insisted on accompanying them. Ithil couldn't bring himself to go. When Legolas returned home after that expedition, that was it. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping, basically stopped existing. They buried the bodies next to their mother. Their bones were broken and scarred and bloody. Oh Valar…" Aragorn put his hand over his mouth to rid himself of the feeling that he was going to be sick.

"It's all right, Aragorn. You don't need to say any more."

"Thank you."

"Aragorn, I'm so sorry."

"It was really hard seeing him in that kind of pain. That was the last time I saw him cry and I think that may have been the last time I cried. Mirkwood has stopped hoping because it only ended in sorrow last time. It was a tragic thing that happened. No Elf in Middle-earth has forgotten that year. Sometimes I think it may have been better if Legolas had…" Tears were stinging behind his eyes. He quickly brushed them away as they fell.

Boromir found it difficult to watch his companion experience such grief. He lowered the blanket to his shoulders and, as was a custom in Gondor, embraced Aragorn.

"My father always used to tell me that suffering cannot befall just one person, because it will always effect those that love him," Boromir said after he let go of Aragorn.

"That is very true," Aragorn replied, emotion still cracking his voice.

"My father also told me that it is those who love him and suffered will only love him deeper."

Aragorn nodded and took Legolas's hand and sang quietly to himself. "I' quel sul, i' for sul. I' quel elen, i' for elen…"

The rain only worsened as the night went on. Gandalf didn't return to them for nearly an hour after they had stopped speaking. He had explained to the hobbits, vaguely, just barely filling in the gaps of the story Legolas had given them, then left them.

"Somethin's wrong, Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered after the wizard ventured out into the storm.

Frodo blinked and returned his mind to reality. "Sorry, Sam. What was that?"

"Somethin's wrong. Boromir looked like he was comforting Mr. Strider. I wonder…?"

Frodo looked out into the rain, but it was so violent that he only saw sketchy silhouettes of those outside. When lightning flashed, he only caught quick glimpses of them; nothing that could be used for concluding.

"Only Legolas and Ithil survived out of fourteen princes?" Boromir asked, still astonished by that fact.

"They never found Calen's body," Gandalf replied, coming up from behind them. He placed his palm on Legolas's forehead again and slipped into his unconscious mind. Again, he saw images of Elves being tortured, dying, or lying dead, but he was not so hasty to leave the prince's mind again. The memories were so vivid that Gandalf could feel the heat of the flames and the burning of the whips. His back twitched.

Aragorn glanced up at Boromir then back at the wizard. "Gandalf?" he asked, placing his hand on Gandalf's shoulder. He suddenly stopped breathing as a picture of Ilmen plunging a dagger into his chest then of Redome vomiting and collapsing. He quickly drew his hand back, gasping for breath and feeling extremely nauseated.

"Aragorn?" Boromir asked, trying to get his attention.

Gandalf's head jerked back as he came out of his trance. "That certainly explains a few details. Are you all right, Aragorn?"

Aragorn nodded, his hand over his mouth, eyes closed in concentration. He swallowed hard.

"Perhaps you should go inside, Aragorn," Gandalf insisted. "You're not looking well."

"I'll be fine," he replied, pulling his hand a little ways from his mouth to speak. "I had no idea…"

"None of us did, my friend," Gandalf said. "He never did describe exactly what happened down there. Not their deaths, not their conditions, nothing. I'm not sure he should be accompanying us into Moria. Aragorn, honestly, you look pale. Go inside and sit by the fire. There is no point for you to suffer out here and feel sick. You're cold, as are you, Boromir. I suggest that we take shifts in waiting for him. I explained more thoroughly to Gimli about the situation."

Both Aragorn and Boromir shook their heads. "I cannot leave him now," Aragorn said.

"I'm too concerned to sit and do nothing," said Boromir.

"I can see that you are both just as determined as our prince. I will go back and make some tea for you." And Gandalf stood and left.

"What did you see, Aragorn?" Boromir questioned when Gandalf was out of earshot.

"I saw… Ilmen killing himself and Redome…Oh Gods…" he murmured, holding his hand tighter over his mouth.

"Aragorn, I know that you are worried, but you really do look sick-"

Legolas awoke violently, heaving for breath, eyes wide open in panic, though he wasn't seeing.

"Legolas. Legolas, look at me. Calm down. Please. You must come back," Aragorn pleaded, leaning over him.

"Do not be afraid, Prince. It is just us. No one is here to harm you," Boromir reassured him.

"Legolas, are you all right?"

He didn't answer.

Boromir glanced at Aragorn quizzically.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked, reaching out to touch him.

The Elf scrambled to his feet, breathing hard, shivering violently. A shaking palm came up to his mouth and he looked as though he was about to be sick. He swallowed hard and looked at Aragorn. Rain and tears slid down his cheeks. Never before had he known such misery. He was sorry, he was upset, he was afraid, and he was alone.

"Are you going to be all right, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, standing.

He nodded.

"Come. Let's get you warm," he said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Boromir followed slowly behind the other three. He had noticed a serious change in Legolas already and it perplexed and worried him. Earlier, when the Fellowship had only just begun their journey, Legolas held himself dangerously, with poise and perhaps even a sense of arrogance, but now… It was as though something had attacked him. Boromir could see the Elf's tears and saw how slightly he had flinched when Aragorn touched him. Possibly he needed time to accept it. For some reason, Boromir had believed that Legolas had never really felt as though he was safe; he was always on his guard. He never felt that Legolas returned the trust the Man had in him. Now, it was all flooding back because it had never truly been put to rest.

"Boromir!"

Everything quickly snapped back to reality and Boromir found himself running towards Aragorn and Legolas. The Elf had collapsed and Aragorn was trying to hold him up. Boromir took Legolas' other arm and slung it around his neck. They reached the cave and laid Legolas on the floor.

"We all need to rest after what happened tonight. All shall be explained in the morning. Meriadoc, you shall take first watch and Gimli the second. I do not think we should need more for dawn is only a few hours away," Gandalf said. "I shall return in time for our departure." And the wizard left without any more explanation. 

As Gimli was laying out his blanket, Merry approached him. "Gimli, I can take the full watch tonight. You need the rest more that I."

The Dwarf was going to insist on taking his watch, but suddenly realized how tired he truly was and thanked Merry for allowing him the extra time to sleep.

All during his watch, Merry kept throwing sideways glances at Legolas. Whenever he did, he clearly recalled the last evening in which he was on watch with the Elf. Of course, the previous time he had been conscious, so at least Merry knew that there was someone that could come to the rescue if something did happen. After a while, the Brandybuck managed to convince himself that the chances of meeting someone this far nowhere were quite non-existent.

The dawn came quickly, with a bright, warm sunrise. Merry felt a drop of cold water fall onto his curly head and realized that he had fallen asleep near the end of his watch. He glanced around frantically to ensure everyone's safety, then found that…

"He's gone!" Merry squeaked, feeling his eyes widen to an abnormal size. "Oh no… Gandalf's going to-"

"What am I going to do?" asked the wizard, entering the cave, leaning more heavily than usual upon his staff and smoking his pipe. He also looked around and his eyes narrowed. "That Elf… Where do you think you're going, me dear hobbit?" Gandalf asked, thrusting out his staff to halt the young hobbit.

"I have to find Legolas!' he replied, obviously nervous by what his consequences could possibly be.

"_You_ do not have to do anything."

"But, Gandalf, he's gone! What if something happened? What if he had another panic attack? What if he-" he lowered his voice- "hurt himself."

Gandalf thought for a moment. "If it concerns you that deeply, Meriadoc, I shall send Aragorn to search for him."

"But he's sleeping and he hasn't gotten proper rest all night," Merry protested.

"Nor have you. You may take rest now, I will take watch, and Aragorn will find our Elf. Does that sound fair?"

"Fine," Merry agreed reluctantly, walking to his bedroll, which lay next to Pippin's.

Gandalf waited until the hobbit was laid down to allow the worry to spread across his face. He immediately woke Aragorn, who quickly noticed the absence of the Elf. The wizard said nothing as the Man scrambled out of the tangle of blanket and nearly stumble out into the sunlight.

There was no sight of anything for miles. Aragorn could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he pushed himself to continue running. _Where is he? _Aragorn thought frantically, finally stopping to breathe. His heart was racing with panic and worry for his companion, some of it still a remainder from last night's incidents. He remained still for only another moment to allow his legs to cease their shaking. He had only been running for twenty minutes or so, but much of his energy was spent in allowing his body to keep up with how furious his mind was working. There were thousands of possibilities, and the most likely was the worst. Aragorn began to search again, but his lungs contracted quickly with the thin air of the early dawn. Gasping for breath, Aragorn saw a small forest of young trees, a very thin stream that ran a few feet in front of him running into the wood. Lacking any other ideas, Aragorn began to follow the water's path. Deep in his heart he felt as though he were on the right path, and this caused some of his fear to retreat, but then he thought about what he may find. Legolas' pale and terrified face flashed in his mind and Aragorn paused for a moment. Despite his efforts against it, he imagined Legolas dead. His feet moved voluntarily as his whole mind concentrated on desperate pleas to the Valar for his dearest friend to still be alive.

The stream widened as it ran deeper into the forest and in ended in a pond surrounded by tall grass. When Aragorn finally came out of thought, he found himself staring at small puddles of blood on the ground. The shock almost rendered him unconscious. This gave him a sudden burst of energy, enough for him to sprint and manage his way through the tall blades of grass that made a rather protective wall around the little pool. When he had almost reached the centre, Aragorn's thoughts almost ended his search, and then he burst through the to the bank of the water. What he found brought him to his knees. He liberated a sigh of relief, but remained as silent as possible and simply watched.

Legolas was bent over the stream, the bandage set aside with his shirt, neatly folded, revealing all the scars of his past. He had his blonde hair flipped over and was ringing it out, apparently through with washing it. When he threw his head back, he pulled his hair back into a quick ponytail with a piece of material from the bandage. The ice-cold water felt marvellous against his skin. Though he had felt nearly frozen last night after lying in the rain for only Valar knows how long, he had woke in a cold sweat and was hot as though with a fever once again. The hobbit had fallen asleep and Legolas slipped out and thankfully found the stream. He felt the need for solitude to arrange his emotions. Legolas splashed another wave of stream water against his face and breathed deeply. He glanced at his reflection in the crystal water. Farther upstream, he noticed a flicker of movement. _Estel, _he assumed immediately.

As soon as he thought this, the Ranger made himself known.

"Legolas, I've been searching for you. Merry almost fainted when he saw you were gone," he said lightly, making a conscious effort to not look at the horrible scars that covered his pale upper body. Then Legolas looked up at him and everything in Aragorn stopped- his heart, his lungs, his mind, _everything. _Aragorn had feared that Legolas would be still emotional from the past evening, but he was very wrong. He had never seen eyes so cold. A light in them pulsed with loathing and need for revenge. They were intense, alert, and pierced Aragorn's heart with fear and grief. "Do you need help dressing it again?"

"I do not believe it needs it," Legolas replied, his voice as icy as his eyes. He glanced down at the new scar and felt angry fire rise into him. Unlike so many times before, it did not pass. Legolas was not going to succumb to this. No. He vowed to protect the Ring-bearer and all who travelled with him, and protect them he would. He pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and gathered his knives. He walked past Aragorn with an air of determination, vengeance, and wilful Elven pride.

When they returned to camp, the other members of the Company were taken very much aback by Legolas' composure. He felt more dangerous now than he had when they had first departed from Imladris. Boromir glanced at Aragorn, who shrugged slightly, looking quickly back at the Elf. Sam had been cooking breakfast, which suddenly no one felt like having anymore except that Gandalf, just as surprised as everyone else, insisted upon it. He had intended on talking with Legolas before they continued to Moria, but he no longer saw the need for it. And there are some things that even Istari do not wish to become involved in.

They ate and packed swiftly, leaving no evidence that they had been there. Legolas brought up the back, an arrow already nocked into his bow. The hobbits felt just as much dread as they had the first week of travelling, and would not have continuously looked back at him had they not felt so compelled by his piercing gaze. Frodo was the only one who felt more worried for him than afraid of him.

All that day they walked, never stopping, and never speaking except for the habitual whispers between Aragorn and Gandalf. That afternoon they had left the grasslands and entered into rocky terrain, the Misty Mountains beginning to loom over them once again. The hobbits continued to lose their footing against the damp, smooth faces of the rocks. At last, when the night had already been upon them for sometime, they arrived. The Doors of Moria…


	12. Chapter XII: The Bridge of Khazaddum

**CHAPTER XIII – The Bridge of Khazad-dûm**

Another day crept by, filled with silence that only reminded them of the danger they were in. To his own surprise, Boromir felt a great deal of fear, but not all due to the situations at hand. He looked into Legolas' eyes for a moment and saw such ultimate hopelessness that he thought the Elf would attempt suicide.

"There is a single bond that keeps our Elf in this lifetime, but that bond is shared by three that are plaited. If one fails, another surely will. But the final is the strongest and Legolas feels it constantly. My heart tells me, though, that one of the bonds is about to fall," Gandalf said later that night when Boromir had privately expressed his concerns to the Istari.

"That brought no comfort, Mithrandir," Boromir said. "Which bond will save him?"

"The same one that saved him in Mordor and has been with him through the years and these weeks with the Fellowship," the wizard said, seemingly speaking more to himself than to Boromir.

"Aragorn?"

"No. There is someone who shares a stronger bond with the prince." A smile flickered over his face.

"Who, then?"

"His daughter," said Gandalf.

"I am going to retire to bed," Gandalf said. "You two will keep watch?"

The Man nodded and sat for a long while in uneasy silence. Boromir was trying to wrap his head around Legolas having a daughter. Why had he not spoken of her before?

"What are you thinking?" Aragorn asked, bringing Boromir out of his thoughts. It had been some time since the wizard had left him.

"Gandalf was saying that Legolas has three people who will save him. One is his daughter and he said one was going to fail."

"You have probably figured out that Gandalf and I are the other two."

Boromir nodded. He wanted to ask which would fail, but could not bring himself to discuss something that could mean the death of who he was talking to.

The next morning when the other members of the Company, save Legolas, woke and were silently chewing their breakfast, Aragorn suddenly spoke. "Her name is Eryn," he said, answering the question that he guessed had been weighing on Boromir's mind, making the others stare, but listen. "She's the most precious thing in the world to him. You will meet her in Lothlórien, where she lives with her mother. When the Orc attacks in Mirkwood became frequent, Thranduil bade that Êlanna and Eryn go somewhere safe for he could not bear if something happened to his only grandchild, whom he is very fond of," Aragorn replied. He glanced sideways at the prince, who was sleeping uneasily. The previous day Legolas had become overwhelmed by light-headedness and the grotesque burn on his back was paining him, his physical remembrance as strong as his mental and emotional. It got to the point where he could barely walk and Aragorn guessed that he would need help today as there was no chance of them staying for a day in the mines of Moria to allow Legolas to recover.

"Something disturbs the rocks," Gimli said, lowering his pipe. He turned to the entrance of the vast hall they were sitting in and saw a faint orange light, like a flame. He squinted for a long moment before his eyes widened. He stood up and ran to where Gandalf was sitting with the hobbits. "Gandalf…" the rest was lost to whispering.

"Everyone, quickly, pack your things," Gandalf ordered urgently. "Aragorn, carry Legolas."

The Man lifted the Elf into his arms after completing the first task the Company was assigned.

"Good," Gandalf said, but there was not praise in his voice. "Can you run?"

The hobbits all stopped shoving their packs full of whatever their hands fell upon and looked at the wizard. "Run from what?"

"Do not ask questions, Peregrin Took!" Gandalf replied sharply, staring at the hobbit with intense eyes. He looked at Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli like this, too, to avoid the question being repeated. "Hurry!"

Not completely done, but scared shaken by the tone in Gandalf's voice, the hobbits stood up, but no one ran; only stood, and followed Gandalf's gaze to the orange, fire-like glow.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, swallowing hard, sensing the wizard's fear.

"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you… Run!"

It took a moment for them to move, entranced, it seemed, by the light. But when Gandalf turned, the hobbits were not far behind. Boromir followed Merry and Pippin, then Aragorn with Legolas is his arms. Gimli brought up the rear. Gandalf led them into another hall, much vaster than the previous one. The heartbeat of the Balrog was not far behind. The hall led them to a doorway that entered into a labyrinth of broken staircases and flames. They put one flight of stairs in their wake before coming to another that was shattered in the middle. The Fellowship stopped, waiting for Gandalf to do something. He jumped over the break. "Frodo!" he called. If he could not save everyone, the least he could do was save the quest.

Boromir grabbed the hobbit's shoulders and tossed him across. Frodo was quickly followed by Sam. Merry and Pippin held onto Boromir as he leapt to the other side, leaving Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. The three were still for a long moment, hesitant as to who should go first. There was a great sound behind them and everything vibrated. The stairs shook.

"Go, Gimli," Legolas said with all the volume he could collect.

Aragorn looked unsure.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf, lad," he said before making the great jump over the oblivion. His boots landed on the very edge of the other side and he faltered, but Boromir grabbed him fast enough to save him.

Aragorn was very doubtful of himself. It was a long way to go and he didn't think that he could hold on to Legolas. "Do you trust me, Legolas?"

"With my life, Aragorn," Legolas said, oddly calm and sincere. He took a shuddering breath. "Tell Êlanna that-"

"I'm not going to leave you, Legolas. We can do this." Aragorn stumbled forward as the stair quaked beneath them. "Do not let go."

Legolas nodded and gripped Aragorn's tunic with his right hand. _Valar, anno amin rovail revia.__ Valar, give us wings to fly._

The stair lurched forward with another tremor. Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. _Do not let go…_ He held Legolas tightly and jumped. Time seemed to slow. Every moment of every second crawled. Each time he trembled, Aragorn felt it. Vertigo took over his mind. So many things could go wrong. He felt his fingers slip and then grasp again. _Do. Not. Let. Go. _When Aragorn began to think that this is what death felt like, he felt stone beneath his feet and arms around his shoulders. Almost collapsing, still gripped by dizziness and nausea, he looked down at Legolas. The Elf's eyes were closed, his lips twitching in silent prayer. Aragorn's shoulders were now lighter with relief and he followed Gandalf and the others down the stairs.

They finally came to another hall, but the Balrog was in quick pursuit. The room was hot with the flames from its wings and body. It smelled like ash and smoke. Yet, Gandalf stopped. He grabbed Aragorn's shoulder as the Man ran past. Aragorn looked very frightened. "Lead them on, Aragorn. Take them across the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. Take refuge in Lothlórien. Legolas, give your daughter a hug for me."

Somehow, Aragorn found the ability to continue running after that even though his mind had become like stone. The Balrog's flames were hot on his back and the smell of smoke was suffocating him. Legolas was writhing in his arms. "Mithrandir!" He finally escaped Aragorn's grasp, but could not find the strength to stand. Aragorn grabbed his shoulder and led him across the narrow bridge. Still, Legolas did not yield. "Let me go, Aragorn! We cannot let him die!" When they reached the end of the bridge, Legolas escaped. He was only a quarter of the way across when he halted.

Gandalf stood, Glamdring and staff in either hand, prepared to challenge the Balrog of Morgoth. He raised both above his head and said in his most powerful voice: "You cannot pass!"

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!"

The Balrog cracked its flaming whip against the side of the bridge and let out a harsh cry.

"Go back to the Shadow! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gandalf hit his staff against the bridge and stared loathingly at the flaming beast. The Balrog took a step forward, eager to capture its prey, but the stone began to break and it collapsed into the abyss below. With a painful sigh, Gandalf turned around. He saw the horrified expressions on their faces and moved towards them, but another crack was emitted into the air. Thin flames wrapped around Gandalf's ankle and the wizard fell, gripping the edge of the bridge.

Legolas forced himself to run. He heard his frantic heartbeat. He was almost there. Time had stopped as if to give him a chance—or to give him enough heartbreak to kill him.

"Fly, you fools…"

"NO!"

Legolas fell to his stomach and reached his hand after the disappearing wizard. "Mithrandir!" he cried, feeling all senses drain from him. This was not happening, this was not possible. Gandalf does not die!

_Give your daughter a hug for me…_

"MITHRANDIR!"

Arms lifted Legolas and carried him across the bridge and up another flight of stairs. Someone was crying, so was he. Sounds seemed so distant. The tears that streamed down his face might as well have fallen down glass. That's all he was. Something that did not feel, hear, see… like glass. And he was shattered. Gandalf, one of his only hopes, had left this world.

_Give your daughter a hug for me…_


	13. Chapter XIII: Lothlorien Frost

**CHAPTER XIII – Lothlorien Frost**

High in the trees there was a faint candlelight. It's always there; just in case that night was the night her ada came home. She really should be sleeping, but the stars were too bright to ignore. Her ada loved the stars. The winter wind caught her curly hair and blew it over her shoulder as she sat on her chair, leaning against the windowsill. This was not the first night she had fallen asleep there waiting for him to come home.

The next morning, her naneth found her, frost gently painted on her hair, and tucked her back into bed. A familiar chickadee was sitting on the window with a tiny piece of rolled parchment tied to its ankle. Quietly and cautiously, she took the parchment off and read it. _Teli bar, __Ada__ Come home, father._

"Come home, Legolas," she said sorrowfully, dropping the parchment out the window.

8p classMsoNormal style'text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;punctuation-wrap:simple;text-autospace:none'>In mournful silence, the Fellowship followed Aragorn through the weaving paths of the forest. The wind was refreshing, but bit where tears still marked their presence. The hobbits were still crying despite the day's journey away from the mountain. Even though they had stopped last night, no one had slept. Boromir occasionally grabbed Gimli's shoulder when he felt himself beginning to falter. And, not for the first time, Aragorn wanted everyone to talk; the silence was pushing him down. Legolas was awake, but so pale and cold that it seemed as though he lay dead in Aragorn's arms.

They halted again at midday for none had the strength to continue for more than a few hours at a time. Sam made something warm for lunch even though not even he ate all of his. Afterwards, they waited for Aragorn to stand and lead them through the wood, but he did not. He _could_ not.

"Aragorn, I can carry Legolas the rest of the way. You need no more weight," Boromir insisted in such a small voice that he did not sound at all like the son of the Steward of Gondor, a captain of the armies.

Aragorn nodded mechanically. He was so detached that he hardly recalled allowing it until they had walked for another two hours. It would only be a few more until they reached Caras Galadhon, then he would have solitude. "The Nimrodel," he said, waking himself out of a waking dream as he did so. "This river is said to have healing powers. We have now entered the realm of Galadriel."

"Galadriel?" Gimli asked sharply. He turned back to the hobbits and waited momentarily for them. "Stay close, young hobbits. They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell and are never seen again." His Dwarven pride shone through the darkness of his grief. "Here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox- oh."

An Elven archer aimed an arrow at his forehead. Others that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, surrounded the Fellowship and drew their bows.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," said a voice that weaved its way through the other Elves. He looked very much like Legolas, but seemed slightly more arrogant.

"Haldir, please," Aragorn asked. "Legolas does not have time." He took a step to the left, revealing the now unconscious Elf in Boromir's arms.

"Follow me," Haldir said urgently.

He led them to a wooden platform high in the trees that made the hobbits very nervous. It was here that they finally paused. The hobbits heaved their packs off their shoulders and sat down. Frodo had an uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched and that he was not alone in his mind. They were stopping for the night, thankfully, but would have continued until dawn had Legolas not woken up.

"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion, Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil," Haldir said in a much softer voice.

"Govannas vîn …gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien. Our Fellowship is in your debt, Haldir of Lorien." Legolas said tiredly.

He was going to ask about Eryn and Êlanna, but was interrupted by a very agitated Dwarf.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves. Speak words we can all understand."

Haldir's icy tone had returned. "We have not had dealing with the _Dwarves_ since the Dark Days."

"And do you know what this Dwarf says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul." He had said it with such disdain that it was guessed to be highly rude. The fact that Aragorn hit him afterwards confirmed it.

"Haldir, man od Eryn? Haldir, what of Eryn?" Legolas asked weakly, on the verge of being taken by unconsciousness.

"He na mae, She is well," Haldir replied. "Legolas-" He felt guilt sink into his chest when he found it pointless to continue as Legolas had fallen into darkness once again. "You will follow me," Haldir said bluntly to the Fellowship.

"Naneth! Naneth! Aragorn is here!" Eryn cried excitedly, pointing so frantically out the window that she bounced. "Look, Naneth!" And she jumped up and ran out to the stairs.

Êlanna placed her book down in time to watch her six-year-old daughter scamper out of the room. She had been so engaged in her thoughts that the only word to catch her ears was "Aragorn". That could not be right…could it? "Eryn!" she cried after her child, running to the doorway to see her running carefully down each step in her white nightgown. "Eryn, come back!" But Eryn was already down two flights of stairs. As she followed, Êlanna muttered to herself, "That child is so alike with her father…" _Please, let him be there. _

"Bring him up to the flet. Galadriel will tend to him," Haldir beckoned to the Company. "Quickly."

Aragorn looked back at the hobbits, who looked so exhausted that sleeping even that far above ground would be sleep much welcomed. He then turned back and stared at Boromir for a long moment. Boromir smiled weakly, fatigue weighing in his eyes. Returning the gesture, Aragorn turned to Haldir. "I will take Legolas, our Company is tired.""

"As are you, mellon nîn-"

"Aragorn!" Eryn called, nearly tripping on the hem of her nightgown. "Aragorn, you're here! Galadriel said you were coming!" She stumbled down the last few stairs and ran towards him, curly hair springing around on her shoulders.

"Eryn!" Aragorn caught her up in his arms and hugged her tightly. Such an angel… Tears stung in his eyes for he knew he would have to let go and when he did… she would see Legolas. How could he explain; the blood, the burns, the trembling, the tears? What do you say to a little girl who can barely remember her father and when you bring him back, he's dying?

She let go and asked, "Where is Ada?"

Boromir stepped back into the shadow of the trees with the hobbits.

Aragorn closed his eyes and a tear fell down his cheek. With a tiny hand, Eryn brushed the tear away. "Why are you crying?"

"Eryn, do not run off like that," Êlanna scolded, taking Eryn of the Man's arms.

"See, Naneth! I told you Aragorn was here!"

"So you did," she replied, staring deeply into Aragorn's eyes. He knew what she was asking and nodded towards Eryn. "Haldir, could you…?"

"Of course, Êlanna," he said as he took Eryn and lifted her close to his chest to obstruct her view as much as possible. "Let's get you home."

Eryn's mood changed from excited to extremely crest-fallen. "Where's Ada?"

"He's home, Eryn," Haldir replied. "You'll be able to see him later."

Even this seemed to lift her spirits and she hugged the archer's neck tightly all the way up the steps.

Êlanna waited until she could no longer hear the innocent and hopeful things her daughter was saying then embraced Aragorn, who readily held her and allowed her to weep into his shoulder. "Please tell me you brought him home! Please!"

"Êlanna, I need to warn you…" he could not even _think_ the words let alone _say _them. "He's…Gandalf… Legolas is far from all right."

"Where is he?"

Aragorn held her elbows and stepped out of the way. Boromir stepped forward, revealing her very pale, very still, very cold husband. Êlanna lost the ability to stand and Aragorn caught her. "Legolas!"

Boromir took a few more steps forward. Êlanna put her hands on Legolas' chest. She did not cry, blink, or move. Silently she watched his chest rise and fall.

"We must get him to Galadriel," Aragorn said. Boromir nodded and crossed to the stairs, Êlanna's hands falling limply to her sides. "Êlanna, will you be all right?"

"He's bleeding…"

"I know, Êlanna."

"Eryn is waiting for him…"

"I will stay with her. Legolas needs you." Aragorn took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. "Go."

For a brief moment she stood still then turned and ran to catch up with her husband.

Aragorn went slowly to Êlanna's home, searching for an explanation in his mind. Even then he did not have enough time. He found Haldir just leaving Eryn's room. "She wants to know when she can see her father."

"I know. Êlanna's with Legolas, so I'll stay with Eryn."

"You need sleep-"

"I need to look after Eryn. Legolas will want to see you, I'm sure."

Haldir nodded and grasped Aragorn's shoulder before he left.

"Eryn," Aragorn said when he entered. She was standing by the window with something in her palm. Aragorn knelt beside her. "Who's this?" he asked, regarding the chickadee.

"His name is Herald," she replied, holding the tiny bird very close to Aragorn. "He's been taking my messages to Ada, that's why Ada has come home." She set Herald on the windowsill and ran to her bed, jumping so that she could land on the mattress. Aragorn sat down beside her and pulled the blankets up to her chest. As she squirmed to get comfortable, she asked, "Where is he? When can I see him?"

"He's in the infirmary, honey."

"I missed you calling me that. Naneth doesn't like honey, so she only ever calls me 'Eryn' or 'baby', even though I'm six now. Ada called me 'honey' too, but he hasn't been home for a long time. Sometimes, Naneth says that I should not be afraid because you'll always love me and protect me."

"Why does she say that?"

"She tells me so after she yells at the Valar for taking Ada away. She only ever yells at them anymore. They took away his smile, she said, and his song. When I pray, I apologize for her. I know that the Valar did not take away his smile and his song."

"How?" Aragorn found it disbelieving how optimistic Eryn still naturally was considering that she was just disallowed to see her own father. Her happiness was slowly starting to bring back memories of happier days, shining through the darkness that Aragorn felt like he had been dropped into.

"Because Ada told me that I was his smile and he always sang to me. He loved to sing, and play his violin. But Naneth doesn't seem to remember that and she yells and that's when I have to explain to the Valar that she just gets upset because she cannot remember, she doesn't mean it. Did Ada smile and sing for you?"

"He used to."

"Why doesn't he anymore?"

"Eryn, what has your mother told you?"

"Naneth said that Ada was robbed when he went away. I was only a baby, then. Ada's brother can't visit me because he can't see, so it's just Naneth and me. Haldir comes sometimes. He makes good chocolate tea and I like him, but he does not sing like Ada does."

"What did you Ada sing for you?"

"Many things, but there's one song that he sang the most. Naneth cries because I don't remember the words," she admitted sadly. "I try, but no matter what… I just can't remember."

They both sat silently for a long moment. "Can we go see Ada now?" Eryn asked.

"Your Ada is resting now. We can go see him tomorrow, though."

"Why is Ada tired?"

"Something really bad happened… bad things that should not have happened-" _things__ I could've stopped- _"Now that he can be with you, I'm sure he'll be happier. You are his smile, after all," he said, smiling- _truly_ smiling- himself.

"You're tired, too," she observed, moving to the other side of the bed. "If you don't sleep, you might get sick." With much effort, Eryn folded the thick covers over. "This bed is the comfiest. If you sleep here, you'll be happy tomorrow."

Aragorn smiled and lay down beside her. He blew out the candle and rested his head on the pillows, closed his eyes. He felt Eryn cuddle close to him and quickly fell asleep…


	14. Chapter XIV: I've Waited Forever

**Chapter XIV: I've Waited Forever**

_"Come on, Eryn… you can do it, honey," Legolas urged his less than a year old daughter. "Come on, honey." He held out his arms, unable to stop smiling. _

_"Go on, baby," Êlanna coaxed. "Go on."_

_The tiny child stood slowly, wobbling in every which direction to gain her balance. Her mother held her arms to help. With halting steps, she carefully walked towards her __Ada__. Each of the three steps she made she did with great pride before being scooped into his arms. She started to laugh, and so did her mother and father._

_"I am so proud of you!" Legolas exclaimed, kissing her forehead and cheeks. Êlanna now stood next to him and he kissed her too. "Hannon lle."_

_Êlanna smiled and kissed him again when a falcon landed on the windowsill with a rolled piece of parchment tied to its leg with golden string. She removed the parchment and said, "It's for you, Legolas," upon seeing the Elven seal over it._

_Legolas, still holding Eryn, accepted it and read it silently, his eyes growing more and more burdened._

_"What is it?" Êlanna asked._

_After a pause, he replied, "It's from my father. I've been called to go to Mordor as an ambassador."_

_"Mordor?__ Can't someone else go?" she asked, her hands beginning to tremble already. "What about your brothers?"_

_"They, too, are going. But it's a matter of safety in numbers."_

_Êlanna tried to hide her fear, but could not stop the flow of tears. She took Eryn and put her to bed in the next room then returned so that she and her husband could say what needed to be said._

_"Êlanna," Legolas said sincerely, resting his hands on her shoulders, "if I do not do this then more people are going to die."_

_"But what if it's you? What if you…"_

_"I will not," Legolas answered, feeling her pain in the depth of his heart._

_"How can you know that? They do not show mercy in the __Black__Land__, Legolas!"_

_"I know, Êlanna. But it is my duty to protect my people."_

_Êlanna knew he was right in everything he said, but trying to even venture the thought of not having him was tearing her apart. She knew that he understood how little of a chance they had of succeeding, but he was too proud and dutiful to shy away from it. At a loss of words and unable to stand the thoughts of Legolas' death, Êlanna took the parchment off the table and read it herself._

Legolas,

I regret to inform you that over ten Elves have been killed in the past seven days due to the restless violence of the Orcs that dwell within the forest. We cannot bear to lose more lives and I ask you to return to the palace and go with your brothers into Mordor to set agreements against this mindless slaughter. I understand how difficult this may be for you and will not think any less of you if you do not wish to go for I know that your family mean more than the world to you. If you decide to go with your brothers, please come as soon as time allows.

Love,

Your Father

_Êlanna smiled slightly at how loving Thranduil could be even at the darkest of times. _

_"I am so sorry, Legolas," she said, pulling him into an embrace. He unconsciously hugged her back, struggling with wrapping his head around the news. "Legolas?"_

_"I have to go home," Legolas replied distantly, unsure of what he was really going to do and pulling away from his wife. "I have to be with them."_

_"Of course," Êlanna said. _

_Legolas left to prepare himself for the journey there, hoping that an Eagle would be gracious enough to help along the way. It took him an hour to prepare his weapons and saddle his horse, after which he went to Haldir and asked him to watch over Êlanna and Eryn. After all this he returned to his own home. The moon was already high; he would have to leave quickly. Before saying farewell to Êlanna he went to his daughter, who was sleeping now. He laid his hand over her stomach and kissed her forehead._

_"Listen, honey.__ I love you. I do not say this because I do not think that I will not come back to you because I will. I promise. I'm going to be there for you always, do not forget that. I will come back to you," Legolas said before tears interrupted him. Parting from his daughter grieved him so much that he was almost in physical pain. He finally forced himself to leave the room, sparse tears falling down his cheeks. Returning to his and his wife's bedroom, he found Êlanna standing there, her silhouette accented by the light of the moon. Uneasy silence fell over them and neither moved for that would mean revealing how terrified they were, and not Legolas or Êlanna wanted to admit it. It was after a few minutes that Legolas finally took her in his arms and held her close, smelling the lavender in her hair._

_"You cannot go!" she wept._

_Legolas held her closer. "I must."_

_"What will I tell Eryn when she is older? When she realizes that her father was taken from her?!"_

_"You will never have to. I cannot bear to be away from you, let alone from her. I love you both more than even the tongue of Elves can adequately describe. Please, Êlanna, do not think such thoughts unless it is real. I need to know that you have faith in me."_

_"I have always had faith in you and I always will."_

_A more comfortable silence fell over them now; Êlanna held Legolas tightly, memorizing the was he stood, the way each muscle in his back was arched, the texture of his tunic, everything. "At the beginning of Creation we lay side by side and then we were moulded and did not recognize each other until that night of the Third Foray. Do not let anything happen because I waited forever for you," Êlanna said._

_"And forever you shall have me," Legolas said with a slight smile. He bent his head and kissed her passionately, savouring every moment of it. _

_"Namarië-"_

_"No. Until our next tomorrow," he corrected. He could not recall where he found the ability to leave her standing there in her tears and not look back. _

Êlanna gently caressed Legolas' cold hand as he lay on a cot in the infirmary, which was empty except for them. She looked at the wide scar on his shoulder that he had gotten from the Warg bite and at all the others that he had gotten in Mordor and a deep hate fell into her stomach. "Damn them," she cursed softly. Her anger subsided and she was now weakened again by the worry and sorrow brought with seeing her loved one so bandaged and bruised. He was so still-- not so much as a flinch—that he almost appeared as though he lay in death. Trying to stop her lips from quivering and her voice from wavering as she spoke, she said, "Do you remember the night of the Third Foray? We were all gathered in that tiny cellar under the palace. There was that constant banging on the door that was frightening everyone to pieces. You and two of your brothers were fighting to keep the door closed and you finally got a bolt across it. Then the candles all flickered out and it was all dark. Everyone clung to one another to remove the frightening images from their heads. I had stepped forward with my hand out, I don't remember why, but it brushed against you. My hand was shaking so badly that you could tell how frightened I was, so you took my hand and stepped my back against the wall. With one arm around my shoulder you got me to sit down. As the night wore on I became more accustomed to you, even though I did not know who you were at them moment. We held each other closer and closer. At some point I looked up into what I guessed were your eyes and I felt as though I had slipped out of reality, I was floating, and it was only us in a vast sea of nothing. And then you kissed me. My terror left me that very moment and I did not feel afraid at all as I sat in your arms. We did not know who each other was, but there was that recognition and I loved you that night, the Elf who took my fears from me by just being with me. I waited forever for that moment; you cannot be torn from me now."

Legolas flinched a little and his eyebrows creased in pain.

"I'm here for you now, in the darkness." Êlanna lifted his hand to her cheek and kissed his palm. "And I need you. I still need you to sit with me against the wall. Please, Legolas."

**Darkness…everywhere.**** Only bright flashes of red with brief jolts of agony. There was no escape, not even from his own mind. No air to breathe, not even enough to inhale just to liberate that single scream that was building up inside. He was trapped in suffocating darkness and there was no one to hold… Finally, he had enough to cry a single word that pierced through the barriers and seemed to send pieces of shattered glass in every direction…"ÊLANNA!!"**


	15. Chapter XV: Mae Govannen

**Chapter XXXV- Mae Govannen**

"ÊLANNA!!"

Thunder boomed.

Êlanna flinched horribly at the burst of sound and briefly released Legolas' hand. She quickly reached for it again, but his hand found hers first. Gently, Êlanna gripped it and held it to her cheek. "Na sel, mela nîn. Na sel. Shhh."

When she took the moment to look, she saw Legolas' eyes very wide open as he heaved for breath like he had been struggling underwater. The excitement and fear that rose into her throat almost choked her as she willed the words past her lips. "Legolas. Legolas, I'm here, my love. It's all right." Êlanna could hear her voice quivering. Her words seemed to soothe him, though slightly, so she continued to whisper. "You will be all right. Everything is all right. Do not be afraid, mela nîn. It's all right. I'm right here."

He had finally regained his breath, but did not seem to note the presence of her aside from his grip on her hand, his eyes staring into something distant that was not there. There was no light where he was and the darkness began to drape over Êlanna until her eyes began to tear. She put a hand on his face and tilted it slightly so that she was looking right into his eyes. And then he blinked and his eyes closed. His hold on her hand increased slightly as he bit back the pain that had awaited him here. "Shhh, shhh. It's all right. I'm right here, Legolas. You're all right," she repeated. "You're all right. Na sel, mela nîn."

"E-Êlanna…" he whispered raggedly.

"Yes, yes, I'm here. I'm here, my love. My prince," she said with such deep love that she could not help but smile.

At those words, Legolas eyes half-opened wearily. "Êlanna," he said again and then cleared his throat. A ghost of a smile flickered over his face, but it made Êlanna's heart leap into her throat. A tear of relief slid down her cheek. She felt Legolas' hand move from hers to her face and brush the tear away. With closed eyes, she kneeled at his bedside, basking in the touch of his hand.

"I'm so incredibly glad that you're all right," she said with more tears and a slight laugh.

Legolas felt no pain, no grief, nothing but happiness in her light. It was as if the worst thing in his life had been the first thousands of years without her. He was still smiling weakly, laughter gathering in his chest. She was so gorgeous… so unbelievably perfect. Nothing could happen to him now, not while he remained so blessed by her love. "Are you going to kiss me, then?" he asked lightly.

She laughed and cried and did kiss him, passionately, and, Valar, did he kiss her back.

Galadriel descended the stairs to the infirmary with a heavy heart. Legolas had looked so horrible—horribly thin, horribly pale, horribly sick. She feared that if he did not wake in the next two days he would not wake at all. There was a small light in her heart that reassured her that Êlanna's presence could probably work a miracle beyond Galadriel's ability, but her doubt was suffocating it moment by moment. It was too soon when she reached the infirmary. With a deep breath that she usually needed to take to reinforce her composure, she glanced in. A smile fell upon the Lady of the Golden Wood's face. It seemed as if Legolas' years had been stripped away from him just waking up to see Êlanna's face. Besides, to kiss like that must mean he would be in good health. Love was usually the best remedy to anything. Seeing no reason to stay, Galadriel returned to her home at the highest flet in Caras Galadhon.

Aragorn woke late the next morning; the sun was already shining through the window. Eryn was sleeping still, nestled against his chest. He smiled and held her closer. Thoughts wandered in and out of his mind and through his grief for Gandalf and his worry for Legolas, he felt a strong desire for Arwen. It seemed a rather selfish thing that while others suffered he wished for something that could only be his to cherish, but he, too, had suffered and was not so modest towards that. Legolas' emotional extremes had brought him emotional extremes. Just the touch of Arwen's hand could overpower it all. Slipping back into a light sleep, she came to him and when he woke again he almost did feel less tense. The little child next to him had woken him rather suddenly, but it was not a horrible thing to wake to—a smiling little girl with bright eyes that could have embodied everything that was innocent and good left in this world.

"Can we go see him now, Aragorn? Can we see Ada? Can we? Please? Aragorn, please, can we go see Ada? Can we go now?" she asked elatedly. "Please, Aragorn?"

"We will have to ask Lady Galadriel—" he started, slowly sitting up from his very comfortable position.

Eryn gasped as though this was going to be some incredible thing. "Can we really? We're really going to see Lady Galadriel?"

"We'll have to," Aragorn asked, slightly taken aback by her enthusiasm. "I'm sure she'll be in the infirmary with your Ada and Naneth."

"Let's go, then," she said, scampering out of bed and running around to the other side to grab Aragorn's hand and attempt to pull him off. "Come on, Aragorn."

"Alright," he said, finding the will to get out of bed. Eryn did not let go of his hand, so he was tilting to the left slightly due to her vertically challenged trait. "But if he is not awake, we'll have to go back later," Aragorn said as Eryn led him up the stairs.

"I know," she said as though every little moment was a precious moment wasted to see her Ada, who had not been home in such a long time that she could not remember the words to his lullaby. They finally reached the infirmary—she called it the 'infirmaflet', which tended to confuse the Elves, but they seemed to enjoy her made-up words for there had not been youth in Lothlórien for many years—and Eryn was practically hopping on the spot until Galadriel came outside. "Can I see Ada? Is he awake?"

Galadriel knelt down right in front of her so she could look into Eryn's eyes. "He is awake, but, he's tired—"

"Is he sick? Did he sneeze? Does he need something on his forehead?"

"No, Eryn. He's still very tired. He wants to be healthy enough to laugh when he sees you."

"Can I come back tomorrow?" Eryn asked, slightly deflated that she could not see him now. "Will he be better?"

"Of course you can come back tomorrow," Galadriel replied with a smile. "You could even come back this afternoon, if you like." She stood and nodded at Aragorn then returned to the infirmary.

As Aragorn and Eryn returned down the stairs, they discussed what could be done for the next little while.

"There are some people that want to meet you, friends of your Ada's. You can meet them today, if you like," Aragorn suggested.

Eryn looked positively delighted. "Now?"

"I cannot see why not."

Again, Aragorn found himself somehow being dragged down the flights of stairs by the six year old. "We can go slowly, Eryn. They're not going to disappear," he said when he was running out of breath. "They may yet be asleep."

Eryn slowed her pace to a walk, still holding Aragorn's hand. "What are their names?"

"Well, there are Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin from the Shire on the other side of the mountains; Gimli, a Dwarf; and Boromir, Son of the Steward of Gondor."

"They sound like very nice people."

"They are."

At this point they ended their descent and came to the ground. They could see where the Fellowship had made camp within the roots of one of the marvellous trees. Aragorn led Eryn towards it. He could already see that they were all awake and seemed more rested after a night on the firm ground with a sense of protection. "What's for breakfast?" he called.

The Company looked up at the sound of his voice and they smiled. Boromir stood up and went out to greet them.

"We wondered where you had gone, Aragorn. Hello," he said, taking note of Eryn and smiling like the little girl was surrounded by an energy that remedied all pains—which she was.

Eryn took no time to introduce herself. "My name is Eryn Estel Greenleaf, daughter of Legolas and Êlanna Greenleaf. I have a pet bird named Herald and my favourite colour is blue. What's yours?"

Boromir seemed a little taken aback from her introduction, but replied, "I'm Boromir Jaraet Anstrael, son of Denethor and Finduilas Anstrael of Gondor. I have a pet younger brother and I also like the colour blue."

She stared with eyes that suggested she was making an assessment. "You're handsome," she said bluntly.

Aragorn nearly choked on his suppressed laugh.

Boromir flustered wildly. "Thank you."

"Mr. Strider, will you be joining us for breakfast?" Sam asked, his voice still weighed by grief that was beginning to die away with the physical security of the Elven haven and now vanished rapidly with Eryn's presence. "'Ello," he said to her, his friendly hobbit voice returning to him. "You must be Legolas' daughter."

"I am. Eryn Estel Greenleaf," Eryn answered happily as though repeating her own name pleased her. She looked at Sam with a certain curiosity that turned to absolute joy at the fact that he was not much taller than her. "What's your name?"

"Sam Gamgee," he answered. "Will you be joining us for breakfast?"

"Could I?" she asked, almost unable to believe it.

"Of course."

Eryn giggled and let go of Aragorn's hand to take Sam's. "Will you introduce me to your friends?"

"They'll be glad to meet you," the hobbit said, leading Eryn back towards the camp, trying to figure out where his sorrow had gone, but not missing it.

Aragorn smiled as he watched her skip off. "Who would've thought that a six year old Elfling could bring such happiness to such a despondent group of travellers?"

"I don't know," Boromir replied distantly. "I've forgotten what children were like. You can't help but smile around them, especially her. Didn't she want to see Legolas this morning?"

"Galadriel requested that she return later because Legolas is still tired."

"But is he all right?"

"I don't know. As of now, I only now that he's tired. Êlanna can work the same magic on Legolas as Eryn has on us. It's called love."

"It's a marvellous thing."

"It is," Aragorn agreed. "Come; let us see how Eryn reacts to everyone else."

"Hello. My name's Eryn Estel Greenleaf," she announced once again, her smile growing. "What's yours?"

"I'm Merry," said the hobbit, the burden of sorrow quickly falling away from him. "I'm pleased to meet you, Eryn. This is Pippin," he said with a wave of his hand towards his cousin.

"Hello," said Pippin.

Eryn seemed overjoyed at the fact that there were more small people, even though they were all at least half a head taller than her. "Hello, Pippin."

Gimli joined the crowd around the small girl. "You must be Eryn," he said gruffly. "I'm Gimli, son of Gloin."

Her mouth fell open. "You're a Dwarf! I've always wanted to meet a Dwarf!" she exclaimed, hopping up and down in her excitement.

Slightly taken aback by her enthusiasm to meet someone of a race that the Elves had been feuding with for years, Gimli held out his hand to shake hers. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, Eryn."

Eryn laughed out loud, still held by intrigue of these odd, wonderful people. Then she noticed someone like Merry, Pippin, and Sam sitting by himself deeper in the roots of the tree. She quietly approached him. "Why are you so sad?" she asked, coming right out and enquiring about what she wanted to know. "No one should be so sad that they cannot cry."

Frodo did not look at her.

"I'm Eryn. I wish that you would smile because your eyes don't look so happy without it."

Frodo looked at her now with his sad eyes. "I can't."

Eryn tried to jump up onto the branch that Frodo was sitting on, but ended up just holding herself up by hugging it, her small naked feet dangling above the grass. "Everybody can smile."

The Fellowship watched her curiously, listening to her words, but not interrupting. She lowered her voice presently, though, and only Aragorn could barely hear what she was saying.

"You can cry."

Frodo looked into her wide green eyes that sparkled with mirth even though she speaking so solemnly. A tear slid out of his eye as he stared.

"See," she whispered with a small smile. "It's alright."

Still staring, Frodo smiled and, though there was a slight sadness about it, it pleased Eryn. "Who are you?" _She's an angel._

"I'm Eryn Estel Greenleaf," she replied still in a low voice. "What's your name?"

"Frodo… Frodo Baggins," he replied with a few tears.

"It's nice to meet you, Frodo Baggins," she said with a wider smile.

And for a long moment they both stared, he into her green eyes and she into his blue; captivated by something inside each others' souls and smiling even ever so slightly. Then she began to laugh and so did he, brushing the tears from his face. Eryn let go of the branch and fell silently to the ground, holding up her hand suggestively. Frodo took it and returned to the ground as well.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked quietly.

He nodded.

She smiled. "I'm glad. Your eyes shouldn't ever be that sad."

Frodo regarded her now with admiration. She was incredibly hopeful. There was something about her that almost seemed like magic to him, but to her it was the only way that she could go on without the father she loved so much.

That morning's breakfast was possibly the happiest breakfast they had shared since the day they departed from Rivendell. The hobbits laughed again, Boromir smiled his rather handsome smile again, Gimli was proud beyond belief again, and Aragorn's eyes revealed more compassion that worry again. And all of it was because a little girl said her name.

"Legolas, you should not be trying to move," Galadriel said, even though she knew he would not be listening. Love had returned his wings to him and he was not going to wait to fly, despite a broken wing.

"But I must see her. I've come this far to see her," he insisted, gently pulling his tunic over his shoulders, but his wounds were still sensitive and he flinched nonetheless.

Galadriel shook her head. "You are a miracle on legs, Legolas. Yesterday I thought for sure that you would not wake until you were an inch from death and could not enter the Halls without seeing Êlanna and Eryn. Today… you're young again."

Legolas mistook that as an invitation to leave.

"If you strain yourself, you will spend more time in bed."

"I don't care. I have to see her," he said defiantly, but with an air of happiness.

Galadriel opened her mouth again, but Haldir interrupted her with a laugh. "Do not bother, hiril nîn. He has set his mind to it and now you cannot stop him."

"Will you at least accept some aid?" Galadriel asked Legolas. She was truly worried that he would over-exert himself which would only result in him being more obtuse lying down.

Legolas, seeing that having help down all the stairs would be easier than falling, agreed. Haldir slung Legolas' good arm over his shoulder and mimicked his companion's wary, shaky steps.

"Your consciousness is already waning, mellon nîn. Perhaps you should wait-"

"No. It's just a few steps and I need to see her," Legolas argued.

Haldir sighed and continued down the stairs. It was two more flights before they reached grass and Legolas was out of breath. As Legolas had been rushed to the infirmary the night before, Haldir had to lead him to where the Fellowship had made camp. When the tree was fifteen feet away, Legolas let go of Haldir and wearily crossed them himself.

"So you see, Pebble," said Gimli, as he bounced Eryn on his knee, "_that_ is how the Dwarves became so small."

Eryn's eyes were wide so that they appeared as rounded emeralds. "Wow…" she breathed.

Everyone else that was listening was more amused by Eryn than Gimli's legend, but Aragorn seemed unusually distracted. His eyes kept moving to outside the sheltered makeshift home until finally the thing he seemed to have been watching for appeared. He moved away from the root he had been leaning against. "Eryn," he beckoned. The little Elfling was at his side in mere seconds. Kneeling down, Aragorn pointed. Eryn took a moment to see then scampered off, tripping over her nightgown.

"ADA!" she cried out, smiling, laughing, and crying all at once. "ADA!"

Legolas fell to his knees and caught her in a tight embrace, holding her as if to never release. "My girl!" He was crying as well. After a few moments in which he managed to regain calmness despite his lingering happiness, he held her away for a moment. "You've grown!"

"You, too!" she answered, the tears now gone and a very wide smile remaining, and she began to laugh. "I knew that you would get my letters, I knew that you would come home!"

"I will always come home to you, honey."

The saying of her nickname made her even happier. "Guess what?"

"What?" Legolas asked, still holding her arms and looking at her with a father's eyes.

Eryn lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'm not wearing shoes."

"Really?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Guess what?" he asked.

"What?" she asked excitedly.

Legolas leaned in close and said, "Neither am I."

Eryn laughed and hugged her father again. This time, he hoisted her up with his unbroken arm and carried her back to where the Fellowship was standing, watching.

"Should you not be resting, mellon nîn?" Aragorn asked, evidently a little worried.

Legolas looked at him like he had never looked at the Man before. "Why would I rest when I am healed?"

Aragorn smiled subtly. It was true. Legolas had been completely renewed, perhaps not in body, but in spirit. And that is what made the difference. However, the Ranger noticed how tired the Elf already was and really did feel that he should consider lying down before overexerting himself.

"Still tired, Ada? You look tired," Eryn observed.

Legolas nodded. "A little."

"Maybe you should sleep, then."

There was something in Legolas' heart telling him that he was forgetting something. "So intent on getting rid of me?" he asked, pouting.

"No. Naneth said that you said that when you came home you were going to teach me- teach me how to be a child of Mirkwood," she said.

"That's right, I did. Well, I guess I should get some rest then. Will you be alright with-?"

"She's fine here, lad," Gimli answered. "Isn't that right, Pebble?"

"Right," she said. "I'll see you in the morning, Ada?"

"Of course."

Eryn kissed him on the cheek and held his hand as he walked very slowly back to the stairs. "Tomorrow?"

"Perhaps not everything tomorrow," Legolas admitted, feeling the pains of his injuries now.

"But you'll be not tired tomorrow, right?"

"Right," he nodded.

"Pinkie swear," she asked, holding up her baby finger.

Legolas copied her. "Pinkie swear."

She locked her finger with her father's and kissed him on the cheek again, then ran back to the tree, bare feet dancing over the grass.

Legolas smiled.


	16. Chapter XVI: Hunted

**Chapter XVI: Hunted**

Twilight came quickly. The Company and Eryn ate a small dinner together then sat together around a fire, talking and laughing for many hours. Haldir joined them when he had completed his watch. He had initially come to take Eryn home, but became engaged in numerous conversations. It wasn't until nearly midnight that anyone noticed how quiet Eryn was being.

"I think you tuckered her out, Pip," Merry whispered, looking over at Eryn, who lay sleeping on Boromir's knee, leaning against his chest.

"She hasn't seen been this excited since…" Haldir though for a moment, "ever."

Boromir blinked fatigue away and said, "I'll take her up." He saw Aragorn take a breath to protest, but interrupted. "You're tired, Aragorn. Get some rest."

"I'll go with you," Haldir said, the only one that was not remotely tired. "I have to speak with Galadriel anyway."

Boromir picked up Eryn and waited for Haldir to stand up. The two walked silently and slowly to and up the stairs.

"Do you have children?" Haldir asked suddenly.

Boromir paused. "Sorry?"

"I was just curious if you had children. You seem to be a natural, especially with her."

Continuing again, the Man replied, "No. I suppose I just remember what I did when I had to watch my little brother. What about you?"

"I did, once."

"What happened?"

"She was killed."

Boromir stopped dead. "What?"

"The Orcs that had been invading Mirkwood were beginning to disperse to Lothlórien as well. We had no idea. My daughter, wife and I were outside with Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, and my brothers, Rumíl and Orophin. There must have been twice as many Orcs as there were us. They only had three daggers among them, but that was more than we had. It was short, but bloody. I had taken a knife to the shoulder and was broken and bruised within minutes. Annia was stabbed in the chest. Aisling…" Haldir fell silent as to not reveal the emotion in his voice. "They snapped her neck."

"Haldir, I'm so sorry," Boromir said sincerely.

"She was only two years old…" Haldir whispered. He closed his eyes, swallowed the memory, and said, "I leave you here."

Boromir watched his for a moment then took Eryn into the house and to her room. He laid her down gently on the bed, drew the covers up to her shoulders, and kissed her forehead. "Good night, little princess."

No one woke until very late the next morning. Even then, it was only Boromir, awoken by disturbing dreams. He decided to not wake anyone else and silently crept away from the beneath-tree house and ascended the staircase to see Legolas. As he walked, he could not help but imagine how difficult it must have been for Haldir to lose his daughter like that. Without realizing it, he reached the infirmary. He saw Legolas sitting up and Êlanna sitting on the mattress beside him, holding his hand and staring out the window.

"Come in, mellon nîn."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Boromir said, turning slightly red.

Êlanna turned and smiled a perfect smile. "Nonsense. I'll leave the two of you while I check on Haldir and Eryn." She kissed Legolas and left, glancing into Boromir's eyes as she passed him.

"Feeling any better today?" Boromir asked, sitting in the chair that was beside the bed.

Legolas breathed. "Not really. If anything, it seems to have gotten a little worse."

"Your back?"

"My shoulders, my spine." He quickly changed the subject of conversation. "What did you all do yesterday?"

"Talk, basically. Eryn mentioned something about Ithil being blind." It sounded more like a question.

"He is. He kept seeing Isilme's death wherever he looked and it drove him mad enough that he took a burning stick and pressed it into his eyes."

Boromir grimaced. "How horrible." Thinking quickly, he said, "Eryn looks so much like you."

"Thank you. Êlanna says that often. The only thing we cannot understand is her green eyes. She must've gotten them from the little bit of Calen that is in me somewhere. He loved Eryn so much." Legolas brought his hand to his mouth and closed his eyes.

"Are you alright, Legolas?"

"I never thought that remembering would hurt this much. It's unbelievable. For five years I tried to forget and now… it's all I can think about. I even dreamt about it last night. The dreams are almost worse than the nightmares," Legolas' voice was straining with suppressed tears. "I'm sorry. You do not want to hear this."

"But I think you need to say it."

Legolas regarded Boromir for a moment and said, "I cannot. Not now, not yet."

Boromir did not press him. Instead, he said, "Aragorn does not seem like himself here."

"He's never himself when he's without Arwen. I know he pines for her."

"What is their story? I never understood it there were so many pieces missing."

"Elrond—Lord Elrond—does not want Arwen to be with Aragorn because he does not want to lose her. He could never forgive himself for letting her go, even though he knows that without Aragorn, she'll die anyway. He loves Aragorn, he loves Arwen, but he does not like the thought of not having his daughter."

"He does not want them to be together, even if he knows it will kill them both?"

"It's been very difficult for him since Celebrian sailed to the West. A horrible story…" he said. Then, with a humourless laugh, he added, "They all seem to be."

_Not for Men_, Boromir thought to himself. What did they do to deserve lives of sorrow? What crime deserves this punishment?

"Immortality," Galadriel answered, standing behind the Steward's son as though materializing from the air. "I believe that Aragorn wants to see you, my lord Boromir. You should go to him." Only her piercing eyes moved to look at him.

With a hasty bow, Boromir left, looking at Legolas and trying to figure Galadriel. As he returned to the base of the stairs, he tried to shake the feeling of company in his thoughts. Aragorn met him there, his eyes heavy with distress and fatigue. Boromir asked, "What? Aragorn?"

The Ranger stared out and then collapsed.

"Seere yassene quenat-nîn ar' fea-nîn, Beleg Valar, Peace within my body and my spirit, Mighty Valar," Êlanna breathed, drawing her index finger down her forehead to her lips and then to her heart after dipping it in the basin in the narthex of the great Kardaina. The ceiling was very high and the pillars that held it were ornately carved. A throne was situated at the front of the sanctuary where a perpetual ray of light seemed to shine. It was a very old building. Vines intruded everywhere they could. There were deep voices echoing in the walls; voices of those who came here and sang laments or apocalyptic hymns. It was an unhappy place and few came here, but Êlanna had felt the need to be there. She had spent many nights there, none of which she happily recalled. Beautiful, yes, it was, but also horrible. There was the unnerving sense of higher power that had cursed her race faster than bless it. There were ropes that bound souls to promises made out of desperation. There was death there; the deaths of children, the dying, innocent, and guilty. It was awful, but she was there. She kneeled before the throne and bowed her head deeply.

Haldir felt exposed in this place as though all his faults were written plainly on him. He dipped his finger in the basin of icy water and led it from his forehead to his chest. "Seere yassene quenat-nîn ar' fea-nîn, Beleg Valar". Of all places, why must she come here? Making an effort to remain unheard, Haldir wandered through the large narthex and looked into the sanctuary at the solitary figure kneeling before the throne of Iluvatar. Trying to ignore the sense that he was being watched, he entered, bowing at the threshold, and sat on one of the remaining pews. "Why do you come here, Êlanna?" he asked.

It was a pregnant silence before she replied. "What else can I do to help him? I cannot heal his wounds nor make his memories disappear. This is all I can do to help him."

"You help him by being with him, not by begging others to," he said, choosing his words carefully. There were stories about this place that he did not wish to find true first hand. "Just go back."

"And sit by his side until he has taken so many beatings that he dies in my arms?"

"He will not because you are by his side. Êlanna, you cannot keep doing this. Do you really think that they will do anything for you?" Haldir asked, his worry over words gone and pure concern for her overtaking. "They have never done anything but cause sorrow. Virtues like love and innocence are not strengthened by begging them. They do not care; how could they if they are allowing the murder of two year olds and the shattering of love? Only you can do it, Êlanna. Go back to him."

She stood and approached him. "Do not carry such hatred, Haldir. It is naught but a plague."

"I do not care. Come," he said, holding out his hand to her. She took it and they walked in silence back to the infirmary.

"Aragorn," Boromir called, bending over him. "Aragorn."

Slowly, he opened his eyes. "I am sorry. I do not know what came over me."

"You're tired, you need rest. You're making yourself sick with worry."

Aragorn stood up, barely able to stand straight. "I need to—"

"You need to sleep," Boromir said, taking hold of his shoulders and guiding him back to where the others still rested. "Lie down and get some rest," he ordered. "We do not need both you and Legolas to suffer." He stayed a moment to make sure Aragorn fell asleep, which did not take long, and left to wander, finally feeling alone with his thoughts. But not for long.

"Boromir!" Eryn cried, running down the stairs in her bare feet, but in a blue dress, not her nightgown. She jumped into his arms and kissed his cheek. "Have you been to see Ada this morning?"

"I have," the Man replied.

"He promised to spend the whole day with me! He's better! Haldir said that wishing on stars doesn't work, but it does! I wished it and he's better!"

"Yes, but are you sure you are not making Boromir deaf by yelling so loudly," Legolas said as he came down the stairs. He was still very pale and there was a bruise on his cheek, but he managed a smile for his daughter. Eryn was quickly in his left arm. "Where's Naneth?"

Eryn looked in every which direction and shrugged. "I don't know. She wasn't there when I woke up. I picked out my dress, Ada. Do you like it?"

"You're the most gorgeous princess Lothlórien has ever seen," he said, kissing her.

"Naneth left this though," Eryn said, handing a piece of parchment to her father. "I didn't know all the words."

Legolas studied the letter carefully. Why would she go to the Kardaina? "It will be just the two of us, then," he said, tucking the parchment away. Eryn cheered.

"I suppose I will see you if or when I return," Legolas said to Boromir, trying to hold Eryn as she squirmed excitedly.

"Namarië, Boromir," Eryn said, blowing him a kiss.

"Namarië," Boromir replied, waving. Once again, Eryn hadn't ceased to amaze him. He did not see the pair return until rather late at night.

"Ada?" Eryn asked, lying next to Legolas on the grass, staring up at the stars. She cuddled closely to him, happier than ever to be with her ada. How she had missed him, but now she would get to be with him. This also gave her the chance to talk to him. Whenever she tried to ask her naneth about him, Êlanna would start to cry. When Eryn was with him, she felt that it was alright for her to laugh and to have fun, and so she had.

"Hm?"

"How old are you?"

"Two thousand nine hundred thirty-nine," Legolas replied, rather tired from spending an entire day chasing, hiding, swimming, climbing, falling, chasing, falling, and chasing and climbing.

"How old were you when you married Naneth?"

Legolas looked down at her and pulled her close. It gladdened him to see that Eryn was so curious about him. It made him feel like she did not resent him for leaving. "We were rather young compared to others."

"How much longer until I'm old, then?"

"Forever. You'll never be old. You'll get to see the world and have adventures. Never will you have to worry about growing old." _Never will you have to worry about death or dying. I'll make sure you never see it, even if it is me._

"Then, how much longer until I can get married?"

This question took Legolas quite off guard. His six year old daughter was asking him about marriage. He repeated this in his head many times, trying to make it sound like a good thing. "A long time."

"Why?"

"Because… don't be thinking so far ahead, honey. Enjoy being young."

There was a long pause.

"How old is Aragorn?"

"Eighty seven." Legolas got an inkling that this was going to be a very memorable conversation that he would have to think in order to carry it on, which was not looking to be an easy task as Eryn had completely tired him out. However, he had never enjoyed a day so much. This day would make it harder to leave Eryn again.

"How old it Boromir?"

"Thirty five."

"But they look the same."

"Aragorn's different."

"Is thirty five old?"

"Not by Elf reasoning. I suppose he is the equivalent of a ten year old if Elves don't come of ago until fifty."

"So he's—" she took a moment to check her arithmetic— "four years older than me."

"I guess you could look at it that way," Legolas said, much unprepared for her next comment.

"Could I marry Boromir, then?"

Legolas' eyes widened, his jaw dropped and he completely ran out of breath. This was one of those conversations his father had warned him about… "Not today."

Legolas would regret that as Eryn could and did take that as meaning tomorrow. Thankfully, he had time to tell Boromir of this when the Man came upstairs the next morning. Legolas was appreciative of his company as Êlanna had spent the night home rather than in the infirmary to which Legolas was still bound.

"How was your day with Eryn?"

"I cannot recall ever being happier. I've never been so in love. But, I do have something to tell you," Legolas warned. "Eryn asked me last night if… if she could marry you."

Boromir stared for a moment then reacted in much the same way Legolas did. "What?"

"Last night was the first night I think I really felt like I was a parent. I think she was serious." He sat, watching Boromir carefully. "I don't know what you did, but…"

"Neither do I. What do I do?"

"If you hurt my baby I will hunt you down and geld you," Legolas mock-warned.

Boromir regarded him. "Despite the fact that I think your hair may have greyed slightly overnight, you are seem to be doing much better. Eryn is doing well for you."

"I know."

"How will you leave her?" Boromir asked, his admiration for the Elf growing.

Legolas was silent for a moment. "Maybe I won't."

"What?"

"When I first married Êlanna, I didn't know that I would be sent to Mordor. I didn't know that I would almost die and as soon make her a widow as I did my wife. When Eryn was born, a little less than a year before we left, I didn't know that I may not have ever seen her again. I didn't know that I would come dangerously close to losing the two most important things in the world to me. We were gone for nearly a year and I lost almost my whole family. My father, who had taken so much pride in his fourteen sons, lost twelve of them. He was damn near afraid of us. I think that seeing his sons being beaten allowed him to glimpse his mortality, maybe worse _our_ mortality. When I got better, I spent a few months here, but the guilt became so great that I went back to Mirkwood to be with my father and Ithil. It was horrible. It didn't even feel normal or comfortable. After Ithil blinded himself, I began to get sick because of how… I tried to endure it, but it didn't seem worth it. Finally, I came back here. Eryn would've been three and knew Haldir better than she knew me. Êlanna and I rarely spoke until a few months went by. We were finally starting to be a family when I was called back to Mirkwood. Another few months went by and I had never felt as awful as I did then. I wanted to come back so badly. But then I was sent to Imladris to attend the council and tell Elrond what had been happening. And, here I am."

Boromir didn't know what to say to that. Thankfully, Êlanna entered carrying a tray of bread and a pitcher of water. "Good morning, Boromir," she said with a smile.

He nodded to her, still taken by Legolas' story. "I'm going to see how Aragorn's doing."

"Was he not feeling well?" Legolas asked.

"He's tired. I'm sure he's alright. Will you be up today Legolas? I'm sure the hobbits would love to see you."

Legolas nodded. "The feeling is mutual."

"How was your day with Eryn yesterday?" Êlanna asked after Boromir left. "Whatever you did, you exhausted her; she's still sleeping."

"It was great. She's certainly grown up."

"She certainly has," Êlanna said, handing a piece of bread to Legolas. "Here, you should have something to eat."

"Thank you," he said, accepting it. "You know, Eryn asked me if she could marry Boromir."

Êlanna nearly choked. "What?" She was on the border of hysterical laughter.

Legolas came rather close as well, but said, "I think she was serious. Stop laughing, it's not that funny."

"But it is," Êlanna said. "I'm sure it will blow over. She's only six years old."

"When did she grow up?"

"When no one was looking," Êlanna replied, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, much better."

"You've always been a remarkable healer," Galadriel said upon her entry. "We'll see how long it will take. Êlanna, could you…?"

"Of course, hiril nîn," she replied, bowing and exiting.

Legolas watched her leave then turned his attention to Galadriel. She had brought a basin of water with her and a vile of something he did not recognize. An odd thing, though, she was not wearing any tiara or sign of her stature. Her hands were icy and unsteady as she felt his arms and his ribs. "Does something trouble you, hiril nîn?"

Galadriel looked up as though she had just noticed him. "No, it's nothing. You are nothing short of a miracle, Legolas Greenleaf." She then took the vile and poured the mysterious liquid into the basin of water, dropping in a cloth and wringing it out several time. Walking around to the other side of the bed, she sat down. "Turn on your side. I will not allow you to hide this and put yourself through pain every time you move."

Stricken and unable to believe that she had noticed, Legolas turned onto his left side and pulled the blanket down to his waist. He heard Galadriel's breath catch in her throat. The cloth seemed to numb whatever it touched and then erupt in fire. Legolas grimaced and tensed.

"I promise this will ease the pain," she said, her voice reflecting sympathy.

After another streak of red pain circled his burn, Legolas said, "In how… long?"

"In an hour or so. How did this happen?"

"In Mordor. The – ah!—the Orcs pressed a hot shield…" Legolas bit his lip until he tasted blood. "Ah!"

Galadriel pressed the cloth a little harder. "I'm almost done."

Eryn hopped quietly out of bed. She was still experiencing the excitement from yesterday and had not forgotten what her father had said. She started up the stairs, but tripped on the hem of her nightgown and fell heavily on the stairs. Pain shot through her shin. Pulling up her dress a little, she looked down and saw a rather large cut. The amount of blood almost made her cry—even though it was not all that much. She was prodding it gently when she was swept onto someone's knee.

"What happened, Eryn?" Boromir asked, looking down at her injury. "Are you alright?"

"I fell," she replied timidly. "It hurts."

"I believe it. Let's see what we can do about that," he said. With his index finger, he touched around the cut, feeling Eryn's grip on his tunic tighten. Boromir took his sleeve and cleared some of the blood away and kissed where a bruise was beginning to appear. "That should last until we get to see Galadriel," he said, smiling.

Eryn smiled back, her eyes dazzling. Boromir lifted her up and carried her up the stairs.

Legolas cried out again, louder, the pain growing.

"I'm so sorry, Legolas, but it's the only way that I could cure the pain. It will burn for the next hour, at the most."

Legolas was unsure that he would be able to bear it that long, but he nodded nonetheless. "Êlanna," he said through his teeth.

"Of course," Galadriel said, leaving the basin on the table and quickly vanishing. It only took a moment for her to return with Êlanna. "I'll leave the two of you."

"Legolas, what's wrong?" Êlanna asked, leaning beside the bed. She took his hand and kissed his forehead. With her other hand, she brushed away a few strands of his hair and put it on his back.

"Ah!" He gripped her hand.

Êlanna quickly drew her hand away, fearful. "Legolas… what's the matter?"

Slowly so that he wouldn't put too much pressure on his now sensitive ribs, Legolas rolled onto his stomach. Of all things, he had wanted to protect Êlanna from, it was the scars and brand on his back. She knew that they were there, surely, but she had never seen them.

Êlanna put her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Beginnings of unfinished words stammered out of her quivering mouth. Legolas turned onto his back, biting his lip again and digging his fingers into the blankets. There was a long moment before Êlanna had regained enough composure to speak clearly. "This isn't fair. You shouldn't have to—" she choked on her tears for a moment— "you don't deserve this pain. You don't… you've only ever served your king… been faithful to your family… loved your daughter… Dammit!"

Legolas grabbed her hand. "Êlanna, I'll be alright—" sharp inhale— "but you need to calm down."

"Why are you being punished? You've already… endured so much…" she said, crying. She felt Legolas' hand pull hers and she lay down on the bed beside him. "You don't deserve this."

"No, I don't. But if enduring it means living for you, I'll gladly do it."

"But you shouldn't. Not for me. I'm not worth that—"

"Of course you are. You're worth more than anything this world holds."

"But you shouldn't have to do this for me."

"Well, people to crazy things when they're in love."

Êlanna kissed him passionately. As they laid there Legolas realized that he had made up his mind. He would not go.

After that horrible hour had passed Legolas pulled on a clean tunic and walked arm-in-arm with Êlanna down the stairs. She rested her head against his shoulder and admired the view around her. "Did you want to see the house? It's changed since you were gone."

"I'd love to."

Êlanna led him off the stairs onto their flet. She showed him the sitting room, which had changed the least, save for…

"I cannot believe you place those on display," Legolas said, regarding the sketches on the wall

"What do you mean? They're incredible, Legolas. Everyone who sees them compliments them."

"They're being too kind. The only beauty of them is their focus," he said, looking at his wife.

She blushed. "Eryn has been trying to take up after you." And she led him into their daughter's room. There were pictures everywhere—all over the walls, on the desk. "She missed you."

"I missed her. I missed you."

"Will you do it again?"

"No," Legolas answered immediately. "I've missed too much already."

"Really? You're going to stay?" Êlanna asked for confirmation, trying to contain her happiness until he replied.

"Really, I'm going to stay," he replied. But he hardly had a moment to smile as Êlanna grabbed him and kissed him. "Have there always been chickadees in Lothlórien?" he asked, distracted by the little bird on the windowsill.

"His name is Herald and he's your daughter's best friend. She thinks that he takes letters to you and your father. It made her hopeful, I think, so I never said anything."

Legolas knelt in front of the chickadee. It was breathing heavily and there was a piece of rolled up parchment around its leg. Untying the string, Legolas freed Herald from his burden and read it. "It would have made her hopeful if she was receiving replies."

"What?" Êlanna asked, joining her husband at the window. She tried to read the letter over his shoulder. "Who is it from?"

"My father," Legolas replied, suddenly distant, focused on the letter.

"There, it should be all better now," Galadriel said to Eryn, tying the bandage around the child's leg.

"Thank you, hiril nîn," Eryn answered. "It feels much better now. Can I play?"

"Of course," smiled Galadriel. "I suggest you get right to it."

Boromir lifted Eryn off the bed and carried her out and down the stairs. "How was your day yesterday, Eryn?"

"I liked it. I had a lot of fun."

"That's good. Your Ada tells me that you had quite the conversation last night. I'm flattered that you would like to marry me."

Eryn glowed. "Really?"

"Really, truly, honestly, and lovingly," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

Eryn blushed and then returned the gesture. "Would you marry me if I were older?"

Boromir thought for a moment. "Probably. And then your father would chase after me with Gimli's axe."

Eryn laughed. "When I'm older will you marry me?"

Boromir stopped. "Eryn, when you're old enough to get married, I probably won't be around any more."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sad.

"Eryn, I'm not an Elf like you. I…"

Her eyes began to fill with tears.

"I love you, Eryn. I really do. You're the most amazing person I think I may have ever met. Tell you what," he said, taking the signet ring off his small finger. "Keep this and remember me."

Eryn took it and put it on her thumb. Even then it was too big. "Okay," she said, hugging him. "I wish you were an Elf."

"Me too," Boromir said. He took her down the rest of the stairs and to the tree. The hobbits were sitting together with a makeshift chess board between Sam and Pippin. Boromir put Eryn down and took her shoulders. "Will you go and check on Aragorn for me?"

She nodded and ran off. "Aragorn?"

"Hm?" he answered sleepily, not opening his eyes.

Eryn sat down next to him. "Can I ask you something?"

His eyes opened slowly. "I don't see why not."

"What happens when we die?"

Aragorn sat up. "Why? Has something happened, honey?"

"Boromir said that he was going to die. Are you?"

"Eventually. But until then, you should enjoy the fact that we are still alive and you can still jump on us without causing too much harm," Aragorn replied, trying to change the subject so that he wouldn't feel so uncomfortable.

Eryn smiled. "I was just supposed to check on you. Ada said that he wanted to see you, but I don't know where he is."

"That's alright. He knows where to find me."

"Of course I do," Legolas replied, appearing. "How are you feeling, mellon-nîn?"

"Better," Aragorn replied. "I suppose I didn't realize how tired I was."

"We were all tired. Eryn, why don't you go and play?"

"Alright, Ada," she said, hugging his leg as she left.

"Aragorn, I'm sorry, but I cannot leave with you. Galadriel said that I could leave two days from now, providing I rested enough, but I don't want to. I cannot; not again. I cannot leave her," Legolas said apologetically, trying to find other words to explain.

"I would not expect otherwise. I understand completely. She is very precious," Aragorn said, glancing outside to see Eryn sitting with Boromir. "Do not regret it."

"Hannon lle, mellon nîn."

"Anything to report?" Haldir asked Orophin. The night had come too quickly and something in his heart told Haldir that something was going to happen. There were no stars, but there were noises, and they were making him uneasy.

"Galdor thought that he saw horses three or so leagues away about half an hour ago. He thinks that there is something else out there, though."

"I agree. There is something amiss here. Get word to the north battalion and get as many archers here as you can—"

"Captain!"

Haldir's heart leapt into his throat. He jumped across the gaps between the flets and came to where Galdor was. "What is it?"

"The horsemen are extremely close. Did you want me to go down there?"

"No, I will. Stay here." Haldir descended the ladder and jumped to the ground. It was beginning to rain-- and heavily. He hated that he was shaking. Drawing an arrow, he let out a shrill whistle. The least he could do was establish these people as friends or enemies. The waiting made his hands quiver worse. Finally, the whistle was returned and growing close very quickly. There was an echoing sound of galloping hooves closing in. Squinting, Haldir tried to see who it was through the darkness. In moments the horses were close enough that Haldir could greet the riders. "My lord, what brings you here?"

Dismounting, the Elf turned his horse around and commanded it to run. Only one of the other two horses was occupied. The now horseless rider pulled off his companion and sent the horses off with his.

It was pouring now and a fork of lightening gave Haldir a chance to see the condition of them. It also gave him the chance to see the mass of orcs that was a less than three leagues away and gaining ground fast. He helped the Elf carry the other up the ladder.

"Orophin, I must go now. Prepare yourself for an attack. I'll try to get back as soon as I can. Until then, you are in charge. Come, my lord, we must get him to Galadriel."

The Elf did not move. "He's already gone, Haldir."

"What?"

"He's dead."

_This is not the time to let your emotions overcome_. Haldir took the king's burden as his own. "Follow me, hir nîn. I hope you are well enough to run."

"Where did this weather come from?" Gimli asked, wringing the rain water from his beard.

They were all gathered in the sitting room of Legolas and Êlanna's flet. It had only taken a few minutes to get there, but they were still almost sodden with water. Êlanna had taken Eryn to her room to change into dry clothes and Legolas was fetching blankets for their evening guests.

"It never rained like this in the Shire," Sam observed, removing his heavy cloak.

"Let alone in winter," added Pippin, shaking his head to dry his hair.

Legolas returned with an armful of blankets. "These should warm you. As for sleeping arrangements, Êlanna and I can sleep in here—"

"Nonsense, lad," said Gimli. "We'll sleep out here. You should be comfortable."

"If Eryn sleeps with us, the hobbits can all fit in her bed," Legolas suggested. "I still do not want you to sleep on the floor, Aragorn. You still look tired."

"I'll live. You need a proper night's sleep more than I, mellon-nîn."

"Ada," Eryn said, coming out of her room in a warm nightgown. "I saw somebody outside." She ran to him and he picked her up.

"I'm sure it was just your imagination, honey."

"Legolas, I saw it, too. There's somebody coming up the stairs," Êlanna said, her voice quaking with fear.

After a moment: "Everybody stays here until I get back."

Aragorn and Boromir went with him. They went slowly down the stairs, careful not to fall. The darkness was bothering all of them and they were shivering within minutes—mostly, though, from the rain. None of them saw anything, barely even each other as the rain poured in heavy sheets. Suddenly, two dark figures appeared a little farther down, running up the stairs. It did not take long for the figures to reach the Men and Elf.

"Ada!" Legolas gasped.


	17. Chapter XVII: The Escape

**CHAPTER XVII – The Escape**

Legolas froze for a brief moment and was brought back to life by Aragorn as the Man brushed passed him. He took his father's arm and slung it around his shoulder. They went as quickly as they could up the stairs. Neither Aragorn nor Legolas had been able to recognize who the other Elf was, but Haldir took him past Legolas and Êlanna's flet.

"Êlanna, get some blankets, please," Legolas requested, laying his father down on the cot in the sitting room. "Ada, wake up. Look at me, Ada, please."

Thranduil was still, his hands were cold and blood was dripping onto the floor. His fingers twitched and his breathing was erratic. Slowly, his eyes half-opened, but were constantly threatening to close.

"Legolas…save…"

"Shhh. Ada, save your breath. Na sel," Legolas beckoned, his voice shaking. He took a blanket from Êlanna and draped it over his father. Then, turning to Eryn, whose eyes were wide and crying. "Boromir, please take Eryn to her room."

As soon as Boromir touched her, Eryn started to scream. "No! Ada! Naneth!" It took a few moments before she was silent.

"Legolas…" Thranduil started, "Ithil…"

"What about Ithil?"

"Ithil's… there was… another attack… We had to run… Legolas, you must…"

"What happened to Ithil?"

"Legolas… you have to run… hain na teli... they are coming…"

"Who? Who, Ada?"

Thranduil's eyes closed again, his breathing slowed dramatically. Last words: "Run, Legolas."

"Ada?" Legolas asked. His eyes were starting to tear. "Ada!"

Êlanna's mouth fell open. She knelt next to Legolas and held him as she cried. He was bent over his knees, grasping his stomach as though to keep from being sick.

"Legolas—" Haldir halted as he stumbled in. "Oh my Gods…"

Aragorn couldn't believe it. Had that really just happened? Closing his eyes, he tried to forget, tried to imagine it was a dream. He looked at Haldir, who looked like he was about to be executed. Quietly, Aragorn asked, "Where did you go?"

"I… I had to take Ithil's body to Galadriel. He's been dead for a few hours now. Aragorn, they were being chased. Legolas has to get out of here. Now," Haldir said definitely. "You all have to run."

Aragorn nodded, feeling extremely tired all of the sudden. He looked at the hobbits, all with mortified expressions on their faces. Merry had fallen to his knees. _Too much death already_, Aragorn thought. Leaving the room, he went to see Boromir. The Steward's Son was sitting with Eryn on her bed, holding her tightly. She had her hands over her ears and even from where he stood Aragorn could see that she was shaking.

"Aragorn, what happened?" Boromir asked, clearly afraid for Eryn.

"Thranduil and Ithil are dead. They were running from Mirkwood after another attack and they were followed. The battalions are trying to keep them at bay, but we do not have much time. We have to leave now."

Boromir looked at Aragorn and then at Eryn. "What about her?"

"I don't know. If the battalion fails, then…"

Boromir's eyes widened. "No, we cannot let anything happen to her!"

"Boromir, this is out of my power. We have to leave or we're _all_ dead."

Holding Eryn away, Boromir looked at her. "Eryn, I have to go now."

"Why?" she asked, still crying. "I don't want you to go!"

"Eryn, I'm sorry, but I have to. I promise that I will see you again," he said, his eyes now starting to tear. "Remember this." He held up her thumb with his signet ring on it.

She tried to smile and nodded then flung her arms around his neck. "I love you, Boromir Jaraet Anstrael."

"I love you, too, Eryn Estel Greenleaf," he said, embracing her and trying desperately not to cry. "Now I must leave you," he kissed her cheek and went with Aragorn, a few tears managing to escape.

In the sitting room, Legolas was now standing, focused dutifully on Haldir. Êlanna was holding his arm, crying, still, but most likely for different reasons than Thranduil's death. Legolas turned to face her and looked deeply into her eyes.

"Go," she whispered and kissed him. "Go now."

He nodded and released her reluctantly. Now looking at Aragorn, he said, "Lead the way."

Only at that moment did the Fellowship begin to feel the intensity and fear of what needed to be done. The hobbits shouldered their packs and Aragorn and Boromir buckled their sheaths to their waists. Before they left Eryn came running out of her room and jumped into Legolas' arms. "Namarië, Ada."

He held her and inhaled slowly. "Namarië, honey." He was crying again. "Don't try to grow up too much until I get back. I love you."

She nodded as he put her down and ran to Êlanna who mouthed, "Go."

Legolas smiled at her and they ran.

The stairs were dangerous now as the rain came down heavier. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they almost collided with Orophin and who remained of the battalion. "They have passed the perimeter, Haldir. We need more men!"

"Find who you can that is left in the city. Tell those who cannot fight to go to Galadriel's flet," Haldir was yelling to be heard over the rain and thunder. "I'll join you soon."

Êlanna stood at the window, trying to see where they were now. She was biting her knuckles nervously. Eryn was standing next to her, staring out. Suddenly, she took off.

"ERYN!" Êlanna screamed as she tore after her daughter. "ERYN, COME BACK!"

Eryn was careful but quick as she put the staircase behind her. She didn't want her Ada to leave. Not now. She didn't want Aragorn and Boromir to die. She didn't want anything to happen. The sudden clap of thunder halted her. She tripped over her dress and fell into the mud. As lightening pierced the sky she thought she saw a huge shadow at the entrance of the city. Frightened, she screamed.

Legolas halted and turned around. Something was wrong. He listened and heard another scream. "ERYN!" He began to sprint back when an arrow flew into his path. He yelled at Aragorn, "I'm going back!"

"Legolas!" Aragorn started to chase after him, but another arrow flew at them. This time it hit its mark and Aragorn cried out as it broke through the flesh on his arm. Facing the Company who were trying to get into the boats without capsizing them, he said, "Find cover!"

Boromir, however, came closer to him, "Where's Legolas?" he asked.

"I'm going to find him," Aragorn replied, pulling the arrow out of his arm and biting back the pain.

"No, stay here. You're hurt; I'll go."

Aragorn didn't have time to argue, so he nodded to Boromir. The Man ran past him and quickly vanished behind the thick veil of rain. He couldn't see where he was going until lightening flashed and lit the sky for a moment. Legolas wasn't far ahead of him. With a burst of speed, Boromir caught up with him, but it was the Elf that pulled him into cover for the next round of arrows. "Legolas, go back."

"No, Eryn is out there," Legolas replied. The fear combined with the quickly arriving weakness made his head light. He moved to continue, but Boromir grabbed his arm saying: "You are already injured badly enough—"

Eryn screamed again.

Instinctively, Boromir ran out into the next loose of arrows. Another bolt of lightening showed him where Eryn was. His heart was beating violently in his chest. He dove for Eryn and just pushed her out of the way to avoid the oncoming arrows, one of which deeply grazed his outer thigh. Barely finishing that motion, Boromir held onto Eryn and ran back for the stairs. He got her to the stairs where Êlanna was. Eryn was crying and hiccupping. "Go to Galadriel," Boromir commanded. "Now, go."

Êlanna was about to run when she halted, petrified, and screamed.

Boromir grabbed Êlanna and held her. The next thing he heard was the sound of a blade cutting through the air, but did not feel the pain he was anticipating. Still holding Êlanna, he turned around. Êlanna screamed.

Legolas pushed his sword hard against the Orc's. "GO, ÊLANNA!"

Boromir released her watched her run. He then drew his own sword and stabbed the one in the stomach. Turning, he put his back against Legolas'. They were quickly surrounded. Their blades flashed in the lightening as they ripped them through every assaulting creature. The Orcs and Uruk-hai began to disperse from them.

"Go back to Aragorn and the others," Legolas said. "I have to find Êlanna and Eryn."

Obeying, Boromir ran back to where they were preparing the boats. Thankfully, there were no Orcs there yet. He found the hobbits crouching together under a tree root. "Where is Aragorn?" he asked them. His eyes flickered over all four of them until Sam pointed with a quivering finger, his mouth twitching, but releasing no sound. Boromir was afraid to turn around, but he did. Only taking a moment to analyze the situation, he sprinted off.

Aragorn was struggling to fight against so many. He was balancing on the river bank, which was growing muddier and less stable every time he moved his feet. His sword was slipping in his hand and he felt the grip lessening in his injured arm. For a moment he saw that this would be the end and then he felt something radiating on his chest. Arwen… In that single moment that he had taken to think about his love instead of his battles, Aragorn felt the handle of a sword crash against his temple and all went black.

"Toss 'im in the river," said the Uruk-hai that had hit him. His followers obeyed, cackling as they did so. He watched a stream of blood follow the human with his green eyes and grinned. "Don't just stand there, you scum!"

Merry had watched this all unfold as the only of the hobbits that had kept his eyes open. He nearly threw up when he heard the splash.

"Merry, come back!" Pippin called as he saw his cousin throw the pack off his shoulders and dive into the river. "Merry!"

The Brandybuck had dived well and he soon saw Aragorn's shadow in the water. Swimming quickly and without disturbing the surface too much, Merry grabbed Aragorn around the waist and dragged him back to shore. He had managed to get all the way back to his friends in a single breath, but knew this was not the time to be proud. Pippin and Sam helped pull the Ranger onto the grass and into the low root system they had been using as a shelter.

"Is he breathing?" Sam asked.

Merry pressed his ear against the Man's chest and listened intently. Fear gripped him immediately.

"Aragorn… Aragorn," he said, slapping him gently. Swallowing hard, Merry tilted Aragorn's neck back and pinched his nose then proceeded to give him mouth to mouth. After the fourth attempt, Aragorn began to cough and immediately turned on his side. It took a moment for the panic to retreat from him. "Are you alright, Aragorn?"

The Man nodded. "Thank—Thank you, Merry," he said, his voice strangled by the small amounts of water still stuck in his throat. When he moved to sit up he felt a searing pain in his head and quickly lay back down. Aragorn heard someone rip a piece of cloth from one of their garments and wrap it around his forehead.

"You shouldn't move too much, Aragorn."

That meant that he wouldn't be able to fight. Aragorn felt incredibly helpless and began to pray fervently that the others would do well, gripping the pendant on his chest. There was faint voice in his head saying: _Do not be afraid. I am here_.

Boromir had somehow become involved in enough clashes that he was now far from the riverbank. He had to find a way to get back there, but another side of him told him to continue fighting; Aragorn could take care of himself. No decision ended up being made as he became too focused on his sword. The Orcs fought with no reason to their movement, it was all entirely random. Even though Boromir had been raised with a sword, he found them difficult to predict and it put him in danger every time they moved. There was blood on his fingers and his hands, possibly farther up his arms, but his concern became narrowed on his weakening leg. It was almost at the point where he was limping. Finally killing the creature, he tried to find a place that he could stop for a moment and at least dress the wound to stop the blood. He found a very shadowed place behind a group of young trees and tore his sleeve to use as a makeshift bandage. Tying it tightly, he prayed that it would hold until defeat— whose he did not know, but considering the present, it did not look like it would be them.

"Naneth—" Eryn started, sobbing and shaking.

"Shhh, you must be quiet," Êlanna said, looking behind her, telling herself to be brave for her little girl.

"Eryn, listen to me. You must go to the Kardaina behind the flets. Do you know what it looks like?"

Eryn nodded, wiping her eyes. Her face was covered with mud and her pupils seemed to be swallowing the green of her eyes. She was cut in numerous places, bruised, and weak from trembling so violently from the cold and fear. "I don't want to go, Naneth. I want to stay with you."

"I know. I want to stay with you, too. But you must go to the Kardaina and be safe." Êlanna kissed her forehead. "I love you no matter what."

Eryn looked at her mother with the most heartbroken eyes she had ever known then turned and ran.

"Be careful." _Valar, watch over her_. Burying the fright away, Êlanna searched for her courage and set out with determination to find her husband.

"Êlanna!" Legolas cried as he slew every creature that crossed him. He had to find her. "Êlanna!" There were so many… He was already growing tired and sore. The memory of his father still floated to the front of his mind, growing close to distraction. The Orcs must have been determined to get rid of the Mirkwood royal family if they hunted… them… all the way… "They're after me…" Legolas whispered. He ducked behind a thicket of bushes to have a moment to think. An entire city was in danger because of him. Elves were dying because of him… He was a threat to his friends, his family, his own wife and daughter… If he could run fast enough… but he knew he couldn't. There was no way he could outrun a battalion of Orcs and Uruk-hai. He could only fight. Then a disturbing thought occurred to him. Legolas took a moment to swallow what he was about to do and ran back out into the massacre. He whistled loudly and yelled at the top of his voice: "I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood. I am who you have searched so desperately for. If you leave this city, you can have me!"

Êlanna froze when she heard a familiar voice echo into the air. If you leave this city, you can have me… "LEGOLAS!" she screamed. Tears streaming down her face, she ran towards his voice.

Legolas stood proudly, his neck held high and his eyes open. His mouth was a perfectly straight line, but he was trembling inside. This could be it. This could finally be it. The end. He looked down at the approaching Uruk-hai, treating it like an inferior.

"You reek of fear, Elf," said the Uruk-hai, green eyes glittering maniacally.

Legolas' strong disposition faltered for a moment as he noticed this. "You have to promise to leave the city."

The Uruk-hai thought for a moment. He brandished his dagger and said, "I think I'd rather kill you now."

Never had any being felt so much fear as Legolas did in that moment. A tear slipped down of his cheek, but he didn't close his eyes. He watched the Uruk start to bring the dagger down and felt his heart stop.

"LEGOLAS!" Êlanna cried, stopping in front of him.

"ÊLANNA!"

The dagger came down and Êlanna fell into Legolas' arms, limp…


	18. Chapter XVIII: On the Riverbank

**CHAPTER XLII – On the Riverbank**

Everyone had stopped. Elves stared in horror. Uruk-hai and Orcs watched with amusement. Boromir was almost sick.

Legolas collapsed, all strength gone from him limbs. "Êlanna…" he cried. "No! NO!"

The Uruk with the green eyes gave the signal for the others to leave. They were all gone in a few minutes, armed and still willing Elves followed. Bodies littered the ground; among them, many of Haldir's battalion. He walked towards Legolas and bowed his head. Boromir was shortly behind him. The rain had slowed down to a calm drizzle, but it was still dark. Galadriel and Celeborn came down the stairs, Galadriel was running. She stopped dead when she saw all the dead Elves and almost fainted when she saw Legolas and Êlanna. Celeborn held her as she cried. The hobbits, two of them helping Aragorn, came out from their refuge. Aragorn fell to his knees when he saw what had happened. Legolas removed the dagger from his beloved's back and held her in his arms, just staring at her. In a moment of weakness, he bent over her. He quickly recoiled, though, when he found she was still breathing. "Êlanna…"

Her eyes half opened, shadowed. A weak smile played at her lips. She reached up and cupped his face. "Legolas."

"Êlanna, I wasn't worth it—"

"Of course you are. You are worth more than all this world holds, Legolas. I was lucky enough to have you." Now she was starting to cry. Death was hovering near her. "People do crazy things when they're in love."

Legolas kissed her gently and she kissed him back. He tasted the salt from her tears on his lips. Then she was still; her hand fell heavily to the ground. Liberating a cry of sorrow, Legolas buried his face in her neck. His shoulders twitched with every breath; unshed tears were suffocating him and yet he could not cry them.

Aragorn's eyes were stinging with tears he would not allow to fall. Why did this have to happen? Why did Legolas have to lose his father, his brother, and his wife? What had he done? He remembered Galadriel's answer: Immortality. Beside him, Pippin fell to his knees. As he blinked back the tears Aragorn put his arm around Pippin's shoulder.

It seemed like an eternity of darkness before someone broke the silence. Orophin, one of the Elves who had gone after the fleeing Orcs and Uruk-hai, returned and said, breathlessly, "Some are trying to get back in. You should all go, now."

Haldir looked at Legolas and bit his lip. He slowly approached his friend. "Legolas—" his voice was raspy— "you have to run or they'll kill you."

"Im avo matho, I don't care," Legolas replied, not looking up.

"I do. Legolas, I won't stand back and watch you die!" Haldir stated, biting back the emotion ripping through. "You'll run."

Now Legolas faced him, hate burning in his eyes so that they were almost smoky and no longer blue. "Until when? I cannot run forever! Look at what it has done!"

"Legolas—"

"No! There is one more person that they can take from me and I will not give them that chance by running!"

Aragorn stood now and joined Haldir. "I won't watch you die, Legolas. Run."

"Run, Legolas," Frodo said.

"Run."

Legolas looked at all of them. Galadriel nodded to him. He looked at Êlanna's pale face and kissed her forehead before laying her down. The flame in his eyes was vanquished, so he looked more tired than anything. Standing, he stared Aragorn and Haldir in their eyes. "I. Will. Not. Run."

Aragorn's heart fell into the pit of his stomach.

"Naneth!" Eryn's voice could be heard crying as she ran back from the Kardaina. She soon appeared, stumbling around and through puddles. Legolas looked frantic. Boromir saw this and met Eryn as she ran, catching her in his arms. "Are they gone?"

Boromir nodded. "They're gone."

"Then why are you crying?"

Searching his mind for an answer, his thoughts were interrupted by a harsh scream in the bushes behind them. An Orc ran out, set on its prey. Boromir reacted by grabbing the knife from his belt and throwing it at the dark creature. Eryn hid her eyes in his tunic. There was more rustling in the bushes.

"Ada," Eryn sighed as Boromir passed her to Legolas. "Did we—what's wrong?"

"Legolas!" Haldir called, noticing the creeping shadows. "Run now."

"Honey, I have to go away. Go with Galadriel and do what she tells you. I promise I'll come back as soon as I can," he said quickly, spinning her and setting her down so that she would not see her mother's body. "I love you."

Eryn, though confused, obeyed and ascended the stairs to Galadriel, who accompanied her further.

Legolas watched her disappear and then gathered Êlanna into his arms and handed her to Orophin. Haldir stared into Legolas' eyes for a moment then embraced him. "I'll watch her."

"Hannon lle, mellon-nîn."

"Run," Haldir said.

Legolas regarded him for another moment then followed the Fellowship to where the boats were. Halfway there, he began to doubt what he was doing and almost turned back, but Aragorn grabbed his shoulder. The pain was already unbearable. Fighting against Aragorn's grip, Legolas found himself being half-dragged to the boats. As they all took places in the canoes, the Elf felt as though he were watching himself do all of this, completely detached, trying to understand exactly what was going on. He felt and yet did not feel the oar in his hand. He did not know how long he rowed for until they stopped on a beach down the Anduin. An hour had gone by, but the darkness held fast. The hobbits gathered firewood and built a small flame where it could not be seen from the banks of Lothlórien. Cold and sorrowful, they all gathered around it, save Legolas. He stood near the river, staring out at things that only he could see.

"It's alright, Pip," Merry comforted his cousin, putting his arm over his shoulder.

Pippin shook his head. "Êlanna shouldn't have died."

Frodo, too, was still disturbed by what had just happened. It was surreal to recall. He gazed at the shadow standing on the riverbank and pulled his cloak closer. This was too horrible… Standing and taking a pot from Sam's pack, he went to the water and dipped it in, glancing at Legolas. The Elf didn't notice him. Not having expected anything more, Frodo returned to the fire and set the pot over it. Now his gaze moved to Aragorn, who was lying in the sand with his hand over his eyes. Boromir had his head bowed over his knees. Then for some reason Frodo's mind wandered to Gandalf and fireworks. A smile flickered across his face. He removed the pot of boiling water from the flames and let it sit for a moment before going over to Aragorn and kneeling next to him. Carefully, Frodo removed the bandage that was wrapped around the Man's head and dipped a piece of cloth into the warm water. The warmth seemed to sooth Aragorn a little as the hobbit dabbed the cloth on the wound. "I'm sorry, Aragorn. It must be hard for you to see all of this."

Aragorn nodded, his eyes still sorrowful and glistening with tears. "I cannot believe... she's really…"

"I know," Frodo said sympathetically. No one should be so sad that they cannot cry. "What will happen to Eryn?"

"Providing she isn't viciously slaughtered in the siege," he replied slightly angrily, "she'll live with Galadriel."

"Can we not go back tomorrow? You, Legolas, and Boromir need to heal and I don't think Legolas is ready to leave," Frodo suggested, practically begging.

Aragorn regarded him. "I don't think so either. We'll go back tomorrow. Thank you, Frodo."

The hobbit smiled in acknowledgment and put the cloth back into the pot. "You should get some rest, Aragorn." He walked away with a nod and sat near the fire with his kinsmen and Gimli. The Dwarf seemed to be in deep thought, chewing on his empty pipe, glancing every so often at Legolas. Finally, he stood up and approached the Elf.

"You alright, lad?"

Legolas didn't respond.

"Look, lad, I know it hurts, but you're not doing yourself any good not expressing it," Gimli said, staring hard at Legolas. He noticed the Elf beginning to lurch slowly forward unto he fell to his knees in the water, finally crying over the loss of his love. "Let it out, lad."

Legolas dug his fingers into the sand until they felt like they would snap. He inhaled sharply between tears. Incoherent Sindarin fell from his mouth. They were curses, they were prayers, sometimes they were just sounds. A knife had been pierced into his chest, but not enough to kill him with the first blow. His head flew back as the tears came steadier with a scream and then he doubled over. Mordor had not hurt as much as this. Gimli's hand was comforting on his shoulder. It took almost an hour for Legolas to become relatively calm. Even then he just sat, the odd tear rolling down his cheek, waves breaking against his knees.

_We might as well all die!_

_Let me die!_

_If we don't dress the wounds, he'll die._

_Nîn na aut a' gurth._

Haldir held Eryn over his shoulder, dreading the impending moment when Eryn would ask where he mother was. It came too quickly. The little Elf began searching the flet for her or any sign of her, confusion written plainly on her face. Finally she stopped and asked him, "Where is Naneth?"

Kneeling in front of her and taking her shoulders, Haldir replied with a quieted voice, "Eryn, honey, your naneth… got hurt…"

"Is she going to be alright? Can we go the infirmaflet and see her?"

"No, Eryn. Honey, your naneth passed away." Haldir felt his head plummet into his stomach as though it were made of stone when he saw how terrified her eyes became. Tears were already falling down her cheeks, as well as his. "Eryn, I am so sorry." He pulled her into an embrace but she squirmed out and once again escaped down the stairs. Haldir went after her, but not to catch her. He followed her to the Kardaina. She ran past the basin of water, through the narthex where Elves used to admit their faults before entering the sanctuary, and marched straight to the throne. It was pale with moonlight that was not even there.

"You were supposed to keep her safe! You were supposed to protect her! She's the only one that ever comes here, even though it scares her! She prayed to you everyday and cried at home. You don't have the right to ignore her! She sacrificed so many things for you and you didn't do anything!" Eryn screamed angrily. "She's a better person than all of you! And I hate you! I HATE YOU!" She sat down on the stairs, the strength draining from her legs. "You stole my naneth from me…"

It broke Haldir's heart to see Eryn like this. No one should bear that kind of hatred at the age of six, no one should have to.

Orophin swallowed hard as he carried Êlanna's body up to a flet that was draped with cloth so that no one could see in. It was not a place for the living. He ducked behind the heavy curtain and laid Êlanna on the table. The only light in the room was a few dim candles that made Êlanna look truly dead. For a moment he thought he saw her chest rise, but brushed it away. Galadriel entered swiftly with a vile in her hand. Without wasting a second, she poured a drop of it onto Êlanna's throat. It bounced and began to faintly glow gold. Orophin didn't know what it meant, but it made Galadriel's eyes widen. She knelt next to the table and listened to Êlanna's chest. After a minute, she backed away. "She's still alive…"

Almost choking on his breath, Orophin stared at Galadriel and then at Êlanna. The Elf queen grabbed the tiny gold orb and held it between her fingertips. When she tossed it she saw a magnificent thing.

_Êlanna and Legolas were standing toe-to-toe, captivated by each others' eyes. They were smiling at each other and Legolas mouthed the words 'I love you'. She blushed kissed him, retreating when a dove landed on his shoulder. It perched onto Legolas' outstretched finger. He held it before Êlanna and got her to follow his eyes. Happiness illuminated her face and she clasped her hand over her mouth. Legolas untied the ring from the bird's leg and slipped it onto her finger. "Be my princess?"_

Galadriel was enchanted by it for a moment, but took no time in doing the best she could to make sure Êlanna lived.


	19. Chapter XIX: Miracles

**Chapter XIX - Miracles**

The sun finally broke through the clouds the next morning into a rather glorious day. There were birds singing in trees off the bank and hawks were soaring over the river with widespread wings, crying triumphantly. Dew glistened in the daybreak on the grass and on the rocks on the shore. Everything was calm, serene, like a painting, so perfect, so still. The onlooker could see the beauty and peacefulness on all the sleepers' faces, but could not know the pain that tore them up inside.

Smoke danced up from where the fire had been long extinguished. The hobbits slept closely together, damp and shivering. Aragorn had gone the night without ever waking up. Against a stone not far away Boromir was resting with his head bowed against his chest. Gimli's hands were folded over his slowly rising and falling chest. And lying in the sand, his eyes closed, all colour purged from his face, Legolas slept.

None of them went about anything, however, even after they woke up. Boromir was the first, hearing the calls of the hawks overhead. He observed them, watching their dives and turns, listening to their cries. His tired eyes flickered over everyone else. They were so pale he would've believed that they were all dead until Pippin turned over, away from Frodo and towards Merry. Looking again, Boromir saw that Aragorn was slowly waking up. "Morning," he said hoarsely.

Aragorn took a moment and put his hand on the bandage around his head then looked at the other Man. "Did you sleep?"

Boromir nodded. "The hawks woke me up." His voice still sounded scratched. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful, but I'll last. We should go back to Lothlórien," Aragorn replied. His temples were pounding and he felt as though his skull was going to split in half. At the least, he had a concussion.

Again, Boromir nodded. "We can get the hobbits into canoes without waking them, but Legolas will not stay sleeping if we move him."

"He might. Gimli can paddle."

Boromir carried the hobbits and put Sam and Frodo in one canoe, Merry and Pippin in the other. Gimli did not argue about having to paddle and Legolas did not wake up. The canoes cut perfectly through the water despite that they were going against the current. The sun had started to disappear behind the overcast of clouds. It was an hour before they reached the shores of Lothlórien. Frodo and Merry were awake by then, but did not resist the wills of the Elves that carried them up to the infirmary with Sam and Pippin. Haldir was there quickly, relieved that they had come back. He helped get Legolas out of the canoe and carried him up. Boromir was waiting for Aragorn when the Ranger collapsed. Soon all of them were in the infirmary with many Elves.

There were a few that were probably already dead, some that were screaming, some that held their tongues. It smelled like blood and burning flesh. There was hardly any light at all as the curtain at the doorway had been drawn and the windows were closed, making it seem as though night had come within only an hour of sunrise. The darkness made the air in the room heavy and very depressing. Merry and Frodo closed their eyes to not look at the scene that horrified them. Galadriel was not there, but Orophin, Haldir, and a few others were doing the best they could to heal the suffering.

Boromir had seen this happen so many times before in fights to protect and (try to) win back many cities. If he had not been on the quest, he would be fighting for Osgiliath, maybe dying for Osgiliath. But he had left his brother and friends to do that and suddenly felt very guilty. Was this quest worth the risk of his brother? What if Faramir was already dead? What if his father was dead? What if they were all dead and he had only saved himself by going on the journey? His thoughts were disturbed when the nearest Elf moved to stand to give Boromir his bed.

"No, please. Lie down," Boromir beckoned. "I'm fine. Don't get up for me."

The Elf lay back down. "Hannon lle."

Boromir couldn't stand this. He approached Haldir, who had his sleeve rolled up and was reaching into the wound of another Elf to retrieve the arrowhead. "What can I do to help?"

"Tend to those that have not yet been tended to," Haldir answered bluntly and looked as though he was going to be sick as he had to reach further into the Elf's torso.

Boromir immediately obeyed. He soon realized that many of those that weren't being tended to were dead. Asking Orophin, who was next to him, he was told that there was another flet across the stairs to take the deceased. Swallowing hard, Boromir picked the dead Elf up and carried him across to the said room. He pushed aside the heavy curtain to see a poorly lit room with a series of tables. It took a moment for his vision to adjust to the lighting and then he laid the Elf down on the nearest table. For a minute he looked at the Elf's face-- so pallid that the lips looked bright against it, but that could also be because of the blood. Turquoise eyes stared up at Boromir before he silently closed them. After one more moment he turned to leave, but was stopped when he heard someone else speaking. He followed the voice to where the few candles could not extend their light. "Galadriel?"

She did not even turn when she said, "Hold her head up for me please, Boromir." Her voice was so soft that Boromir would not have recognized her by it. He did as she asked and placed his hands where hers used to be. Galadriel moved to the other side of the table and tipped a glass towards "her" lips. Boromir wished he could see who he was holding. Whoever it was, she was very thin and very cold. When Galadriel's hand brushed over his, he felt that she was cold as well and shaking. Suddenly, the person he was holding started to cough. "Don't let go," Galadriel said. "I'll be right back."

Boromir, unsure of what else to do, supported the woman's neck and took her hand. She continued to cough for a few more moments. Between breaths, Boromir heard her plead, "Legolas…"

"Êlanna!" he exclaimed, unable to believe it. She was alive! A tremendous relief came over him and he felt his chest become much lighter. "It's alright, Êlanna. Deep breaths."

She coughed a few more times and inhaled slowly. "It hurts…"

"Shhh. I know. Galadriel will be back in a moment."

"Boromir…?"

"Yes. You have to hold on Êlanna."

He felt her nod and kissed her forehead. "You're going to be alright."

Eryn sat on the floor, staring at her father's sketches on the wall. They were all of her mother. She sniffled and wiped away the tears, pulling her blanket over her shoulders. Standing up, she shuffled to the table and grabbed a charcoal piece and parchment. She put these on the floor and went into her parents' room, the blanket dragging behind her. A moment later she returned with her father's violin. Sitting down, she set to her sketch. "Duna e' i' orn er dome, si tyava er horme hwesta. I' For Sul tula a' quena si e' coiasira en' ant-nîn. Ilya i' palurin cael lemba si, vee' manka a' quen namarie. Ta lemba si tanya re ar' quena si eller a' gurth, Standing in the trees one night, I felt a fleeting breeze. The North Wind came to visit me in my hour of need. All the world had left me, as if to say good-bye. It had abandoned me that day and left me there to die," she sang softly, tears falling onto her drawing. "I Quel Sul, I For Sul… The Good Wind, The North Wind…"

"Legolas," Haldir called. He couldn't understand why it was taking so long to wake the Elf up. It had already been over twenty minutes. Lightly, Haldir slapped him and called his name again. "Legolas, wake up!"

"Haldir, there are others that need you more than Legolas," Galadriel said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'll take care of it." She waited for Haldir to leave then pinched Legolas' collarbone. He tensed and his eyes opened. "Legolas, come with me."

"Galadriel?" He followed her, looking around at all the other Elves and trying to recall how he got here. She led him to the flet across the stairs and Legolas paused. "I can't, not yet."

"Legolas, you_ will_ follow me," Galadriel said definitely. "You may be the King of Mirkwood, but you will follow me." She grabbed his hand and almost dragged him through. Legolas hated this room, it was too dark, too heavy, and there were three—even four, but that thought made him so nauseous that he banished it from his mind— people that she could be leading him to. On the way, Galadriel grabbed a misshapen onyx candlestick from a table. Near the back of the room, she halted and released his hand, but kept the light from the candle away. Strong hands guided Legolas' own to the person's neck and hand. It was then that Galadriel allowed the candlelight to reach over.

"Êlanna…" Legolas gasped. He became speechless. The muscles in his body seemed to disappear and he could not tell what was holding him up or if this was real. His heart was leaping in his chest and he had to think to breathe. It was as though he was looking at her for the first time after years of absence. She was still beautiful despite how sallow her face was, the shadows accenting her cheekbones. Death lingered so close to her, but she already looked like an angel.

Êlanna smiled weakly and gripped his hand. "Hello, Legolas." The candlelight sparkled in her dark blue eyes. She tugged his hand towards her and he bent down. "Shhh," she breathed before kissing him avidly. Suddenly she withdrew, grimacing with pain.

Legolas looked terrified. He turned to Galadriel. "Will she be alright?"

For a moment, the Elf-queen was silent. "She lost a lot of blood and will probably be weak for a few days, maybe weeks. Where the dagger hit in her back altered the bones and nerves enough that they will never operate properly. She will have to lie down for the next couple of days and we'll go from there, but her back is severely broken."

There was an uncomfortable silence and it took the whole of it for Legolas to digest this.

"We'll leave the two of you," Galadriel said for her and Boromir.

"Êlanna—" Legolas started.

She put a finger to his lips. "Legolas, I dreamt that I couldn't remember what you looked like or how your voice sounded. My heart was broken. Now, I can see you again and I can do naught but be thankful."

He smiled and kissed her gently, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she said as tears began to spill down her cheeks. "Take me home."

Carefully, as though she were made of porcelain, Legolas lifted Êlanna into his arms and carried her down to their flet.

Furiously scratching over her drawing, Eryn sobbed and finally dropped the parchment and paper. She hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping the blanket around them, and rocked herself back and forth.

"Avo nala, elle er nîn. Do not cry, my little one."

Eryn turned around with wide eyes and her mouth fell open. "Ada! Naneth!" She scrambled up as Legolas bent down and threw her arms around his neck, feeling her mother's hand rubbing her back, unable to stop crying.

"It's alright, honey," Legolas said.

"I- I thought…" her eyes widened with horror and she quickly changed her sentence. Here eyes went up as she said, "Valar, I am sorry for the things I said, but I thought that you had taken my ada and naneth from me."

"No one will ever be able to take us away from you, baby," Êlanna said, stroking her daughter's cheek. "I'm so happy to see you."

Eryn smiled. "When will you be better?"

"She needs a few days to rest, so we'll have to watch out for her, alright?"

Vigorously, Eryn nodded and stepped away from the door so that her mother and father could come in then ran off to tell anyone that her naneth was alive. Legolas carried Êlanna to their room and laid her carefully on the bed, pulling a blanket over her. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Êlanna took a moment to breathe. "Stay with me?"

Legolas nodded and lay down next to her. After a moment, he reached over and slowly turned Êlanna onto her side. She rested her head on his chest and entwined her hand with his, tears rolling down her cheeks. It did not take long for them to fall asleep.

Legolas listened solemnly to Galadriel's words; his head bowed again his black tunic, eyes staring at the grass, a gold crown glittering on his brow. His shadow was cast long before him, the day breaking slowly as if she knew the happiness she caused could not be portrayed yet. There could be not happiness at the funeral of a king and prince, a father and brother. The world was not of bold colours yet, still pale pastels, not completely whole. It had been in pastels often as of late, sometimes too abstract to be fathomed, for the better or the worse. Inhaling deeply, Legolas felt the breath rattle in his chest. How many funerals had he attended for beings of immortal liking? How many of them had been souls he cherished? When Galadriel's voice, an undercurrent to his thoughts, was silenced, Legolas raised his eyes.

They had all come, Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, and the hobbits. All were clothed in shades of dark greens and blues for only kin of the deceased were permitted to wear black to show their absolute mourning, by Elven custom. Their hands were folded before them and all but Boromir looked at Galadriel. Haldir stood across from Legolas and briefly caught his eyes with a reassuring glance. Beside the new king were his wife and daughter, both clothed in black dresses. Êlanna sat, straight-backed, in a chair and Eryn stood beside her, crying. It was difficult to see Êlanna's face by the veil over her eyes.

Taking a moment to accept his father and brother's deaths, Legolas nodded to Galadriel's question.

The Elven warriors that stood on the riverbank pushed the onyx vessels into the water.

Legolas nodded again.

Arrows that glowed red with fire leapt over their heads as archers fired them at the boats. The kindling inside caught the flames immediately and burst up, fire spilling over the onyx.

Legolas closed his eyes and recited final speeches to his family silently. It was better like this than to have the bodies buried. Their ashes would be carried to Mirkwood instead of their bodies rotting in soil that was not theirs. The smell of charred flesh reached the riverbank and it made Legolas sick, but he held his composure. Death was not easier to accept the more it was experienced.

Sniffling, Eryn brought her small violin to her chin and drew the bow across the strings in a simple, but appropriate song.

Êlanna cried, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her veil hid the tiredness of her eyes, but not even walls of stone could trap her sorrow. Such ill had befallen her husband and it was becoming evermore difficult to understand why. Everything had been taken from him now. His family, his pride, his faith, his happiness… What were the Valar trying to prove by robbing a heartbroken prince? But he was king now; king of a race that was quickly losing it place due to the cruelty of a jealous army that could not stand having any nation above them. A jealous army led by a jealous soul that would not watch righteousness to prevail once again. All of this anger seemed to be shared by two beings: the new king Legolas whose people were dying as the highest race in Middle Earth and the soon-to-be King Aragorn whose people were dying to prevent their people from dying. If ever times were graver, Êlanna did not know of them.

The fires were dying down as the amount of cargo left to be burned lessened. The boats would continue until fate led them back to the shores of Lothlórien to await another death.

King Thranduil and Prince Ithil were no more.

"Your Highness—"

"Haldir, there have never been formalities between us, there shall not be now," Legolas said flatly. He still stood on the bank, arms folded across his chest, the sun shining well above him now. His voice was deeper as though he had only matured in the past few hours. In many ways, he had. "What is it?"

"I only wished to offer you my most sincere condolences to you, mellon-nîn. You have lost so much and gained so little."

"Do not sympathize for me because of that. If you must, sympathize for me because my family and companions must endure this as well."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Haldir said, bowing.

Legolas turned to face him. "Haldir, we are too close to need titles to show respect. I do not need servants now. I need you to be the friend that has been there for me my entire life."

Haldir smiled. He grasped Legolas' shoulder and Legolas returned the gesture. They pulled each other into an embrace.

"We have lost much, mellon-nîn," Haldir stated sadly.

"We have. We can only hope it means that there are happier times ahead," said Legolas. "Perhaps when I return to Mirkwood there will be no more wars, no more needless loss of life."

"When will that be?"

'"After the Ring bearer's quest has been achieved. I owe it to my people to have a hand in aiding them."

Haldir was silent for a moment. "You never cease to amaze me, Legolas."

Legolas smiled, contented by his friend's faith in him. "You would do the same."

"I must ask a favour of you, though," Legolas continued. "Please watch over Eryn and Êlanna while I am away."

'"You do not even need to ask, mellon-nîn."

"Hannon lle."

"Are you tired?" Legolas asked Êlanna later that night when Eryn had already gone to bed and the two sat silently, content with each others' company. He had noticed his wife's eyes beginning to weigh down.

She stifled a yawn and flipped the page of her book. "A little."

"Alright, then," Legolas said, setting down his charcoal and parchment to carry her to bed. He laid her down gently and pulled the blankets up to her chest. "Is that alright?"

"It's fine, thank you," Êlanna replied gratefully. "Are you coming to bed soon?"

Legolas nodded. He returned to the living room to tuck away his drawing and extinguish the candles before returning to his and Êlanna's bedroom. His tunic unbuttoned easily and he draped it over the back of a chair next to the window. Lying down, he drew Êlanna close to him and helped her shift onto her side. Her hand was cold against his chest. "Do you want another blanket?"

"No," Êlanna said, shaking her head. "You have already done so much and you need to sleep. I hate having to constantly interrupt you, I know you would appreciate solitude."

"I thought I would, but I've been alone for so long that companionship is welcomed. And you are not interrupting. It is my duty to care for you and love you."

'Êlanna smiled. "What can I do in return?"

'"You owe me nothing, mela nîn. If anything, I am in debt to you. Your life would have been better with someone else."

"Never, Legolas. I could not swear myself to anyone but you. I love you more than the moon loves the stars," Êlanna said, her breath hitching in her throat as she tried to suffocate her sob.

Legolas held her. "Is something wrong, Êlanna?"

"No, quite the contrary. Everything is better now… I only wish I could give you more."

"You and Eryn make me whole, I need nothing else. Don't cry," Legolas whispered, caressing Êlanna's back. "Don't cry."

"Ada!" Eryn called, waving her arms and skipping energetically. "Ada, come play!"

Legolas smiled. The day of mourning had passed and with it had gone the burdens. He carried Êlanna to where Gimli sat against a tree trunk and set her down beside him. "Are you alright here?"

"I'm fine. I'm sure Gimli has intriguing tales to tell," she said, beaming at the Dwarf, who blushed. "Go on, Legolas."

"Hurry, Legolas, before I collapse," Boromir laughed, trying to outrun Eryn.

Legolas chased behind her and scooped her into his arms. "These mortals tire out so easily," he said in jest. "What will we ever do with them?"

Eryn shrugged and squirmed out of her father's grip to continue her pursuit of Boromir. He allowed her to tackle him to the ground, after which she sat on his stomach victoriously. "I claim thee in the name of the Elves!"

"I am now your humble servant, my princess. I beg you and merciful royal self to allow me to get a drink or I shall surely be rendered useless," Boromir pleaded, trying to catch his breath.

"Of course, sir knight," Eryn agreed, hopping of off him. "But remember this favour forever and always."

"Of course, milady. Your mercy shall be recorded in royal textbooks as an example for princesses to come," recited Boromir in a dramatic tone.

Eryn nodded proudly, unable to contain herself from giggling for long. Speaking like true royalty according to the Fellowship was difficult to do at the age of six. She looked at the ring on her thumb and smiled.

"She is certainly her father's daughter," Êlanna said as she sat next to Gimli.

"It would have been nice to have known Legolas before his life was interrupted by such tragedy."

"He was very… ambitious."

"My father used to say that about me when I disregarded the rules."

"Then it has the same meaning to Elves and Dwarves," Êlanna laughed. "When you visit us in Mirkwood and all of this evil is behind us, you will see who Legolas really is."

"I believe I see him now," Gimli said, nodding towards the Elf and his daughter, watching them laugh and chase after each other.

"Are you going to come and play, Gimli?" Eryn asked as Legolas lifted her into the air.

"Not today, Pebble," the Dwarf answered, pointing and Aragorn, who lay sleeping. He raised his eyebrows to her and nodded.

Legolas saw this, too, and placed Eryn back on the ground, putting his finger to his lips. Nodding, Eryn tiptoed in her bare feet to Aragorn, not even breathing loud. She pounced. Aragorn caught her and trapped her. "You disturbed my sleep," he said, tickling her stomach.

Eryn wriggled uncontrollably. "No…stop…" she managed to say between hysterics. "Please!"

Aragorn stopped and sat up with her on his knee. "You have ten seconds."

Eryn jumped up and ran, listening to Aragorn count down with excitement.

"_That _is Legolas Greenleaf," Êlanna said.


	20. Chapter XX: Beating Hearts

**Chapter XX: Beating Hearts**

Legolas stared out the window into the thick sheet of rain, his arms folded over his chest. A thin blanket cascaded down his back, hiding the hideous scars and brand. The moonlight that poured in splashed off his face and reflected off his eyes as though they were pools of water. He took a deep breath and felt the rain in his lungs, felt the light of the moon run through him and wash his soul. Gone were the screams and the pain, the loss and the sorrow. In the recent death of his father and brother, and the miraculous recovery of his wife, Legolas had been overwhelmed by a sense of peace. He felt immortality again. _They _couldn't take anything from him anymore. He was free.

Êlanna lay in the bed, pale sheets pulled up to her ribs. Her unbraided hair fanned around her face and fell over her shoulders. A smile from her dreams played on her lips. Slender fingers intertwined across her breast, rising and falling gently with her breath.

"I' Quel Elen… The North Star…"

_"Legolas… Legolas…"_

_Legolas slowly opened his eyes and found himself standing on the balcony outside of his bedchamber in Mirkwood. The sun was golden and shone brightly on the autumn leaves of the forest, lit the marble balcony so it appeared to be made of gold. The warmth spread through his arms and legs and Legolas could feel his heart beating slowly in his chest. There were birds flying across the sky, singing to each other as they went. Below, there was laughter and music. Legolas turned around and started to cry._

_There they stood: twelve of them and his mother and father._

_"Tithen muindor," Taure said, smiling handsomely. He was not bruised or bloody or injured in any way. In a pale green tunic and dark leggings with his blonde hair in a braid, he looked just like he should have, as did the other brothers. _

_Ithil and Isilme stood side by side, identical in every way. Redome's face was rosy and healthy, no longer pallid with poison. Ilmen wore white and there was no blood to be seen. Anar stood the tallest with Mallorn, the shortest, at his side. __Aranorn, Carad, Tiri, Menel, and Amonlasse smiled and held doves in their hands. _

_"Naneth…" the youngest prince breathed, unable to keep from crying. She was just as he remembered her—pink gown, light hair kept back with a silver tiara. _

_"My Legolas," she said, her voice coming from her as though she were singing. Opening her arms, a single tear trickled down her cheek._

_"Naneth!" Legolas cried, running into her arms. "__Ada__!"_

_Thranduil embraced his youngest son and wife. Soon all the other princes were holding Legolas, too. They laughed and cried and only the Valar know how long they stood on the balcony embracing each other. _

_"Legolas, we are so proud of you," the king and queen said together. Her voice tinkled like a chime and his echoed like a bell. "We love you."_

_"I love you, too. All of you," Legolas said, stepping back and gazing at all of them through tears. "I miss you all so much."_

_Ithil and Isilme stepped forward with a silver box in their hands, opened it, and laid its contents around Legolas' neck. A silver pendant in the shape of a tree with every initial carved on it. _

_Legolas touched his fingers to it, but did not feel cool glass. It was warm with the beating of fourteen hearts._

_"Hannon lle," Legolas said quietly. He looked up again and saw them all smiling and felt their presence in his own heart. _

_Aranorn, Carad, Tiri, Menel, and Amonlasse let the doves out of their hands and Legolas woke up._

"Legolas… Legolas…"

Before even opening his eyes, Legolas beamed and felt as though the weight of the world were taken off his chest. "Êlanna?"

"Yes."

Legolas opened his eyes and saw her lying in bed, her sapphire eyes smiling at him. "I was dreaming…" he started.

Êlanna suddenly looked concerned. He only ever dreamed of the year in Mordor. "Of what?"

"I saw them, my family. They were all happy," he said, still quieted as the feeling of relief and love passed from his dream into reality. Touching his chest, he felt the cord of the pendant. "Everything is better now."

Êlanna appeared as though she might cry. "Everything is better now."

Standing up from where he had fallen asleep in a chair, Legolas went to the bed and lifted Êlanna into his arms. "And you can dance." He placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"I can dance," she repeated. "And you will sing again."

"I' alu na lann. Im avo tar vanwa… The water is wide. I cannot cross over…" he sang, pressing his forehead against hers.

Êlanna laughed happily. "Yuuyo aut, mela-nîn ar' im… Both shall row, my love and I…"

"They were all there. Ithil and Isilme were both in blue and Redome was healthy and Ilmen…" Legolas' voice trailed off. He was speaking as though he had just seen them all in a boat on the river and was fuelled by excitement to tell everyone that he had found them, they were never gone.

"It sounds like a beautiful dream," Aragorn said. Just like Legolas, he had been lacking in dreams that brought on peace and to hear Legolas describe one gave Aragorn a glimmer of hope, though Legolas seemed to be bursting with it.

"I wasn't a dream, Aragorn," Legolas said. He pulled the pendant out from under his tunic and carefully pulled it away from his neck, not wanting to take it off in case it turned into a puff of smoke. The Ranger sat up so he could see. He stared at it for a long moment, seeming lost in a dream himself. As he looked at the initials he could see the face of which it belonged to. "F… Queen Faeneth, Thranduil, Redome, Ithil, Isilme, Aranorn, Ilmen, Amonlasse, Taure, Carad, Menel, Anar, Mallorn, Tiri…"

Legolas smiled at the saying of their names out loud.

"But, what about...?"

"I know," Legolas said, almost laughing. "I know."

Aragorn embraced the Elf.

"Im nesta. I'm healed."

"I knew you would be," Aragorn murmured, releasing his companion. "It's done."

Legolas nodded and wiped away a tear. He hadn't been happy for so long that feeling it again was overwhelming. He wanted to shout it to the world, though there was almost no need as it radiated off of him so strongly it probably stretched for hours. The shackles fell from his wrists, the whip had turned into a ribbon, the scars were little more than marks. Time no longer existed to him like it did for the passing years, always reminding him of his impending feeling of doom. "Im lain! I'm free!"

Despite Legolas' happiness, Aragorn was worried. Legolas was broken the last time he had such a feeling taken away from him and if anything happened to threaten it again…

"Estel."

Aragorn jumped at the sound of the voice. He turned around and saw Galadriel standing above him, glowing in the pale light of the moon. Standing up, he asked, "Yes?"

The Lady shook her head. Raising her hand, she pressed it against Aragorn's chest, touching the Evenstar. "No. _Estel_."

The Man gazed at her quizzically. "Where is Calen?" he asked bluntly, but slightly too loudly. Thankfully he woke no one up.

"_You will find him," _she replied without opening her mouth. "_But when you do, you will betray Legolas in a way that will show your care for him."_

Knitting his eyebrows, Aragorn took a step forward and Galadriel's hand fell to her side. "I don't want to betray him."

"_You must or you will die."_ She stared into his eyes for a moment then turned and went silently up the stairs.

"Aragorn."

The Man jumped again.

"You should get a good night's rest," Boromir said, barely awake. "We leave tomorrow."

Aragorn lay down, but slept fitfully the entire night.

"You promise you'll come back?" Êlanna asked, sobbing into her husband's shoulder.

"Of course I do," Legolas replied as he cried lightly. "Then we'll be together forever."

Êlanna nodded, but tried to continue holding on as Legolas pulled away. Her chin dropped to her throat as she continued to cry, even when Aragorn bid her farewell. "Take care of him, Aragorn."

"I will, Êlanna."

"I'll write to you, Ada," Eryn said, happy as could be. "Don't waste all your adventures without me."

Legolas laughed. "I won't. I'll be back before you know it, alright, honey?" He pulled Eryn into his chest, fighting back tears. "And don't be married when I get back."

Eryn grinned. "Promise."

Legolas let her go and went to the boats.

"Well, Eryn," Boromir said, kneeling in front of her. "I'll see you soon."

The young Elf girl held up her ringed thumb. "I'll see you everyday, but then I thought that you need something from me to see me everyday." She turned around and picked up a box then turned back and held it out to him.

"Eryn, you didn't have to," Boromir said as he manoeuvred the box open. "It's an emerald."

"I thought that because my eyes are green… it's a kiss."

"Thank you," Boromir said, hugging her tightly.

As the last hobbit boarded the canoe they pushed off and cut through the waters of the Anduin.

"Until tomorrow, Ada!" Eryn yelled, waving.


	21. Chapter XXI: Agarlim

**Chapter XXI: Agarlim**

"Pippin… Pippin…" Merry whispered harshly as he attempted to wake his cousin. "Peregrin Took!"

"What?" the young hobbit cried, sitting up with his fists raised. "Oh," he breathed a sigh of relief, "it's just you. What business do you have waking me up in the middle of the night?"

"It's your watch."

"I don't want to watch."

"It's been your watch for the past _hour and a half _and if I don't get any sleep neither will you," Merry threatened.

Pippin stood up and wrapped his blanket around himself tightly and went to the fireside. He sat cross-legged and bounced his knees, blew into his hands to warm them. Despite the fire his breath came out in puffs of fog. Pippin tried to concentrate on something else. Gimli was snoring gruffly. Frodo was muttering to himself and Pippin wondered if he was even asleep; Sam laid close by, but seemingly in a far more peaceful sleep than his master. Aragorn slept with one hand under his makeshift pillow, the Evenstar catching the moonlight and shimmering on his chest. Boromir was sitting up against a rock with his arms folded over his chest, rising and falling rhythmically with his breath.

Above him, in the foliage of the trees, Pippin heard a crack and sharply turned around. "What was that?" He studied the trees carefully, looking for an owl or any other _harmless _creature that may have made the sound, but his eyes fell on a shadow and he quickly turned back to the fire, clasping his hands over his ears and slamming his eyes shut. When an arrow flew out of the forest and landed by the shore where Aragorn was sleeping Pippin screamed.

Aragorn woke first and his breath caught in his throat when he saw an Orc crawling out of the Anduin towards him. He reached under his pillow and pulled out his dagger, sitting up.

"Dad, Aragorn! (Down, Aragorn!)"

Pressing himself back against the sand, the Man waited for another arrow. It hit the Orc in the chest next to the other one and Aragorn realized the archer was not intent on killing the creature.

Legolas jumped out of the tree and landed gracefully in the sand then ran to the bank and pushed the Orc onto its back. He held its wrists down with his feet and notched another arrow, aiming down. "Who sent you?"

The Orc spit on his boot.

The Elf started to pull the arrow back. "Who sent you?"

"No matter what I say," it replied, its voice gurgling in its throat with blood, "you'll kill me."

Legolas pushed his heel into the Orc's wrist and made it writhe. "Who sent you?"

"I recognize you—"

Legolas pushed harder. "Who sent you?"

"Lurtz," the Orc replied. It smiled menacingly then grabbed the arrow from Legolas' bow and plunged it into its own heart. A moment later it was dead.

Stepping off, Legolas kicked the body into the river. After a moment he turned back to face everyone.

"How long did you know that thing was coming?" Pippin demanded. "And what were you doing up a tree? You scared me half to death!"

"My apologies and I noticed it nearly an hour ago, but my bow does not shoot arrows a league past," Legolas replied. He weaved through the blankets and sleeping mats and sat next to the fire with Pippin.

"We should leave here," Boromir said urgently. "They would've heard Pippin and they will know where we are."

Aragorn considered for less than a moment and nodded. "Everyone pack your things."

The hobbits reluctantly got out of bed, longing for the rest they had in Lothlórien. Sam did his best not to disturb the pots and pans in order to avoid making more noise.

"Sam, I will take your pack for you," Aragorn said. Sam raised his eyebrows quizzically, but took it off his shoulders and handed it to the Ranger. "Frodo and Sam are with me, Merry and Pippin with Boromir, and Legolas and Gimli."

They grouped off, but did not get into the canoes.

Legolas stepped forward with Aragorn and they turned the boats over—to everyone's shock.

"What are you doin'?" Sam asked, afraid for what was going to happen.

"We cannot expect to go unseen if we make ourselves targets," Aragorn said as he pushed one of the boats into the water. He pulled a line of rope off of his belt and tied the first two boats together then did the same for the last. "Come."

Frodo and Sam warily stepped into the water, immediately feeling the cold rush up their bodies. A sharp breath escaped them both. Aragorn tipped the boat up and the ducked under it, shortly followed by the Ranger. There were quiet splashes from Merry, Pippin and Boromir.

"No," the Dwarf denied simply. "I'm _not _going underwater."

"Gimli, you have no choice," Legolas argued, his eyes nervously scanning the surroundings.

"Yes, I do. I can stay here and fight them all of—"

Legolas grabbed the top of Gimli's head and pushed him underwater, following after. They came up and Gimli was sputtering for breath. "Hold onto the outside and you shouldn't sink. Kick your legs under the water without too much noise and you will be fine."

"Damn you, Elf."

They kicked for what seeming like miles to the hobbits. Having been tired when they were woken up, they were exhausted when Aragorn stopped. His heavy breathing echoed in the confines of the capsized canoe.

"What is it, Aragorn?" Frodo asked, his fingers slipping from their grip. He made a panicked squeak, deathly afraid of drowning. "Aragorn?"

"Shhh. I want you both to stay here." Aragorn dove under the canoe and swam to Boromir's. Merry and Pippin looked excited to see him, guessing that he was here to tell them they could swim to shore and rest, but when he whispered to Boromir they both became unnerved.

"Boromir?" Pippin asked.

"We're just stopping for a moment. Catch your breath," the son of the Steward replied. His arms were aching from holding the boat so hard, but he couldn't let go.

"Why have we stopped?" Gimli asked. He could feel water creeping past each layer of mail he had on and felt himself starting to sink.

Legolas looked into the water and immediately knew why. "Gimli, just try to stay afloat for a while."

"Don't think that's possible, lad," he said, getting a mouth full of water as he started to sink.

"Hold on, Gimli," Legolas said, disappearing under the water. He manoeuvred past the Dwarf's belts and coat to the armoured shirt beneath. He came back to the surface. "Take a deep breath."

The Dwarf complied, but panicked when he was pulled under the water. Legolas worked fast around him, pulling off layers until he reached the chain mail. He pulled it over the Dwarf's head and let it sink then put the other layers back on.

Gimli did his best to keep his breath, but when he saw why they had stopped a mass of bubbles escaped his mouth. He stared even when Legolas hauled him back to the surface.

"Thank you, lad," the son of Gloin said somewhat bitterly. Though he was immediately able to feel the difference of weight, he was very unhappy to lose his mail shirt. "What are those things?"

"They're the reason we've stopped. They are called _agarlim, _or blood-fish," Legolas answered. "Be as still as possible and do not look at them or they will sense you."

"And what happens if they sense you?" Gimli asked, staring at the top of the canoe.

Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath when he felt something rub against his boot. "They bite, but they don't usually eat their prey. They usually attack the ribs and chest and leave their prey to bleed to death."

Gimli, in all his sudden panic, felt somewhat at ease. His ribs and chest were mostly above the side of the canoe, so any blood-fish would have to get through the wood first. The ones in danger were Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas.

"Boromir, what are those?" Pippin asked, tasting water in his mouth as he looked down. He saw long shadows far below them than weaved through the water like a piece of ribbon in a gust of wind.

"Don't look at them," Boromir commanded and Pippin and Merry immediately looked up.

"Pippin," Merry whispered, his blue-tinged lips barely moving. "Pippin, I can't hold on…"

"Of course you can. Just a little while longer, Merry, you'll make it."

"I'm bleeding, Pippin…" Merry said, finally announcing the injury he'd received almost an hour ago. He had thought he had just bumped his calf against a rock, but it was still bleeding and Merry was beginning to feel faint. His fingers slipped.

"What?" Pippin turned around just to see Merry close his eyes, drop his hands and fall. "Merry!"

A/N: I'm evil… I can't go two chapters without something bad happening. I blame the encyclopaedia for having a picture of an anglerfish and inspiring me to make bigger, eviler anglerfish without light bulbs on their heads.


	22. Chapter XXII: Separated

**Chapter XXII: Separated**

"Merry!" Pippin cried again. He watched his cousin slowly disappear into the darkness of the depths, waiting for the moment when Brandybuck instinct would take hold and he would swim to the surface. The moment never came. Pippin saw Merry's yellow waistcoat against the ribbon-like shadows weaving along the bottom – or the middle for the hobbit could not guess how deep the river was.

Boromir watched in horror, paralyzed for a moment. He had never been in this situation and could not even hazard a guess at what to do. He did not know the enemy— these _agarlim_— but he remembered a time when he was swimming in the ocean and got caught in an undercurrent. Afterwards he found out that his father had saved him and was given a sound tongue-lashing regarding water. "_Just get them out of the water, Boromir". _"Pippin, go to Aragorn's boat. Take this," he said, releasing the sides of the canoe and kicking his legs furiously to stay afloat while he unlatched his sword from his belt. Handing it to Pippin, he dove.

The hobbit took the sword and watched his companion pursue the quickly vanishing yellow waistcoat. He was afraid to move, to chance a breath. "_Relax, cousin, it is only water – the same stuff that keeps your ale cold!" _Merry's voice rang in his head. "Just water… just water… no shadows, just…" Pippin cut himself off as he pushed his head under the water and forced past the current to open water. He spluttered water out of his mouth and swam with Boromir's sword held out in front of him. "Just water, just water, just water." He went back underwater and resurfaced in the restrictions of the Elven boat.

"Pippin, what are you doin' here?" Sam asked as he was forced back by the Took coming out of the water. "Why do you have Mr. Boromir's sword?"

"M-Merry… drowning and Boromir wen-went down," Peregrin explained. "Shadows…"

"The three of you stay here," Aragorn said as he also unhooked his sword, handing it to Frodo and took Sam's pack off his shoulders, stuffing it between a slab of wood and the top of the canoe. He took a breath and disappeared into the river, fighting against the current to Legolas and Gimli's boat. "Gimli, go to the front boat with the hobbits," the Man said immediately, hoping he did not put too much faith in Gimli's ability to swim when the Dwarf's life was in danger.

"Can you see Boromir or Merry?" Aragorn asked, turning to Legolas.

"Yes…" Legolas' eyes narrowed and without another word he dove. Aragorn was shortly behind him.

As they fought past the currents Aragorn was able to see the blood fish in closer detail. They had long, slender bodies the colour of moss with dark markings along their spines. Blood red orbs shone in their small eyes that darted every which way in search of kill. Their lower jaws jutted from their faces, showing long teeth that came to a fatal point. And a smudge of yellow that seemed to be getting father away.

Legolas was deeper than Aragorn from the moment they submerged. He could see the agarlim and their teeth; Boromir and Merry. His fingers reached forward with each stroke until he touched Boromir's cloak. Surpassing the son of the Steward, Legolas continued on for the hobbit. By then the agarlim were so aware of his presence they were starting to attack.

Legolas grabbed Merry's hand and pulled him away from the remaining shadows that twisted below. As he turned, holding the Brandybuck protectively against him, one charged and sank its teeth into the arm Legolas had forced out to save Merry's neck and shoulders. The agarlim shook its head viciously to draw as much blood as possible then darted away. Legolas kicked his legs harder as he saw the shadows of Aragorn and Boromir on the surface draw nearer until they, too, started to swim away. The Elf followed them doggedly until another fish attacked his legs. The assault landed just below the back of his knee and more blood poured into the water. A few more desperate kicks and Legolas burst through the surface and pulled himself and Merry to the bank. Aragorn and Boromir had their arms out, waiting to drag the Elf and hobbit to shore. As they reached land a final fish took a fleeting, but deep, bite at Legolas' stomach.

Aragorn heaved Merry onto the sand and laid him on his back, checking for breathing and a pulse.

"Stay awake, Legolas," Boromir muttered to the barely conscious archer though he was also in danger. Not of injuries, but hypothermia. "You must stay awake."

(…)

"Where've they gone?" Sam asked worriedly, creases forming across his brow. "It's been almost half an hour."

"I don't know, Sam," Frodo asked with equal anxiety. He did not want to alarm anyone by saying that they would've floated downstream a good length with the other boats, though by the expression Gimli wore, Frodo guessed the Dwarf knew as well. "Merry will be fine, Pippin. He's a Brandybuck, after all."

This brought no comfort to the young hobbit. Distress purged the colour from his face. His eyes focused on something beyond the others' sight until his eyelids started to droop then he moved his concentration periodically from the water to the low wooden ceiling.

"Perhaps we should stop; warm up, get a fire going," Gimli suggested. "Somewhere that will make us obvious to the Fellowship, but hide us from the enemy.

Shivering, the hobbits readily agreed. They pushed their boat towards a shoreline and crawled out from under the canoe gasping for air as though they had not breathed in hours. It took much effort for them to pull the canoes on shore and hide them behind a group of reeds. The hobbits and Dwarf ducked behind the boats and looked for nearby firewood. The fire that was produced was small, but any warmth was better than none at all. Sam boiled some water and they sipped at it in silence.

(…)

Merry started to cough and turned his head. His entire body shook with every cough. "Pippin…"

"Pippin is with Frodo, Sam and Gimli. They are safe, Merry," Aragorn said, gently rubbing the hobbit's back. "Let me have a look at your leg." He examined the wound, amazed by how long Merry had persevered with such an injury. It was almost at the bone and still bled into the sand. Not having the time to stitch it at the moment, Aragorn took a piece of cloth from a bag on his belt and fastened it around the hobbit's calf. "It will hurt for a long while, Merry, but the worst is over."

"Aragorn, I will sit with Merry. You should tend to Legolas," Boromir said. His wet hair was flat against his head, sticking to his neck. His armour weighed him down and he looked as though he would collapse at any moment under the weight.

Sand gathered on the Ranger's clothing as he moved to the other side of the bank.

Legolas sat against a thin tree, leaning completely on it. His injured leg was bent towards him to keep it away from the sand, his arm pressed against his chest and blood staining the front of his tunic.

Aragorn did the same for Legolas' leg as he did for Merry's. For the Elf's arm, Aragorn carefully checked for breaks then, finding none, dressed it too. As he manoeuvred around Legolas' torso, he said, "We will have to walk until we find where the hobbits and Gimli are. I will carry Pippin, but Boromir does not have the strength to carry you." He expected Legolas' reply to be: "I will be fine, Aragorn" or "Do not worry, Aragorn" since the archer had been so hopeful as of late.

"Leave me…"

"What? Legolas, I cannot—"

"You heard what the Orc said. They are still hunting me… waited until I was not under the protection of a battalion of archers—"

"Legolas, stop spouting nonsense. You told Eryn you would see her again, I swore to Êlanna I would protect you."

Legolas smiled faintly. "I cannot hinder your escape."

"Then do not," Aragorn said, knotting the ends of the bandage. "Come, I will help you stand." He offered Legolas his hand, but when Legolas moved to take it the Man pulled away. Legolas looked into his face and saw the breath driven from him, the same expression worn by Boromir. Merry looked petrified.

"This is the Ranger of the North," said the green-eyed Uruk-hai.

(…)

The four of them decided to take turns keeping watch, but none of them slept. They huddled around the undersized flame, slowly feeling the warmth return to their blood.

"They'll all be here soon, right?" Pippin asked. Then, answering his own question, he said, "Of course they will."

"I only hope they will find us," Frodo said despondently.

"They'll find us and they will all be fine," Gimli said matter-of-factly. "But we will be no good to them half dead. Go to sleep, hobbits."

They lay down and wrapped themselves in their cloaks. Their blankets were in the packs they carried that were sodden with river water; their cloaks were slightly less so from being near the fire.

"I wish we were still in Lothlórien," Sam mumbled.

Frodo and Pippin silently agreed.

(…)

"And the son of the Steward of Gondor," said another with a smirk. Its yellow eyes glowed like embers in their sockets.

"And a Halfling," said the green-eyed one again. He looked at Merry as though he were trying to see through him.

"Ranger, Steward, Halfling, and _Elf_," said the second. "The new king of Mirkwood after the tragic death of his father. It goes ill in your forest, _Highness_. But not as ill as affairs in Gondor."

Boromir's shoulders pushed out to their full length and he stood up straight, setting his jaw.

The green-eyed Uruk laughed. "I hear the young captain of Osgiliath has practically lost the city to Mordor."

Aragorn threw a glance at Boromir. When Boromir looked as though he may strike one of them Aragorn stretched his arm across the other Man's chest. "Do not believe a word they say."

Legolas was struggling to stand and eventually stood with his weight balanced between his left ankle and the slender tree. He turned to face the foul creatures and came nearly nose-to-nose with the one with yellow eyes. "What do you want?"

"We are under orders to bring the Halfling," it replied.

Legolas stared into its eyes with intense hatred, refusing to blink. "Your master will be highly disappointed," he said and with lightning speed and precision he took one of his white knives from his back and pierced it through the Uruk's neck so the blade went all the way through then ripped it out.

The other watched Legolas with its green eyes as if memorizing his movements. It watched its compatriot crumble to the ground then attacked, but was thrown back when it found that Legolas mirrored its advances perfectly. Legolas was also taken aback and they stared at each other.

"You will forfeit the Halfling, _Highness_," it said after taking a moment to push aside its astonishment.

Legolas ran his thumb over the hilt of his knife. He was starting to stumble on his one good ankle when Boromir stepped forward. "You will never have him," he said, matching the Uruk in size and stature. In his hand he secretly held Eryn's emerald.

The Uruk drew itself taller. "You dare challenge me unarmed?" It struck Boromir so hard in the face the Man fell over. "Fight me, Elf."

Aragorn had quietly inched back towards Merry, but watched Legolas and saw his expression change from anger to fear.

"I will not," Legolas said, bowing his head and dropping his knife.

The Uruk-hai grabbed Legolas' shoulder with a grip that nearly shattered his shoulder and held its own knife at the Elf's pale throat. "You will fight me or die."

"I cannot." Legolas did not even squirm.

"Why not?" the green-eyed creature seemed outraged. "Afraid to lose?"

"I know I will lose. I never won against you," Legolas said with such a small voice he sounded like someone else.

Green eyes sparked. "You never will."

A/N: Sorry, I left another cliff-hanger, but even if I added information I would've still left it at a cliff-hanger. Maybe some of you will figure out my plot (or have figured it out already). If you have a) Kudos to you, you brilliant Sherlock Holmes. and b) please do not say anything. I will update soon! Happy New Year!!


	23. Chapter XXIII: Brothers

**Chapter XXIII: Brothers**

But when the Uruk's blade came down, Legolas defended himself by reaching for his other knife and the sound of the metal clashing seemed to make the sand vibrate."You see?" it said with a wiry smile and it swung its blade across Legolas' stomach, making him recoil back to avoid the blow. "Not so hard."

Legolas' fingers were trembling and the blood seemed to run out of his hand. The Uruk-hai attacked in a series of movements, but Legolas knew the reply to them all. He had been taught, long ago.

"Legolas, King of Mirkwood, king of the Elves that die," it mocked, no longer surprised by the Elf's accuracy, but intrigued. "Fight for your people!" It brought its sword across again and Legolas jumped back.

"No, not against you," the archer refused to comply.

"What is it about Lurtz that frightens you?" Lurtz said as though he were speaking to a child. He swung hard.

Legolas tried to challenge the sword with his knife, but fell to the sand and felt the creeping water beneath his fingertips. "It is not Lurtz."

Aragorn stood back, unsure whether to run with Merry and Boromir or stay. He was unarmed; there was no good he could do for Legolas.

"Go, Human. My business is no longer with you, though you cannot run forever," Lurtz said, swiping his blade under Legolas' chin. "Go."

Aragorn lifted Merry out of the sand and stood momentarily with Boromir. They stared at their companion for a moment then disappeared into the forest.

"Will they grieve for you when they find your body?" Lurtz asked, tilting his head in sick curiosity.

Legolas felt his fingers beginning to loose from their grip and tightened his hold until his finger hurt. "I thought you wanted a fight."

"I do." Lurtz grabbed Legolas' collar and held him above the ground then dropped him to his feet. He attacked and was blocked every time. "How do you do that?"

Legolas dodged left. "I was trained the same way you were."

Lurtz laughed and withdrew his sword momentarily. "I highly doubt that."

Legolas tried to look everywhere _except _at Lurtz except when he had to. His back was to the river again after numerous rotations around the tiny bank. He waited for another attack, unable to attack himself.

"Do my eyes deceive me or does the Elven scum cry?" Lurtz did not pause this time.

"I cry," Legolas answered with a trembling voice. "I cry because you do not remember."

Lurtz kicked Legolas' weak ankle and drew the end of his sword in a thin line across the Elf's back. "What do I not remember?"

"Who you are, Calen," Legolas replied. His voice did not even grow louder with pain.

Lurtz halted completely, his eyebrows crossed quizzically. He was about to behead his prey when a signal came from inside the forest. "Pray you do not see me again, _Highness_."

(…)

"We must go back," Boromir said, following Aragorn through the maze-like forest, pushing invading branches away and stepping over logs. "We cannot leave him to fight on his own. It will be his death."

"Wait until we find the others," Aragorn said with extreme calmness that revealed how miserable he was inside. He glanced down at Merry, who was awake but had not said a word. "Then we will go back for Legolas."

"I will go back—"

"You are unarmed, Boromir. As am I. We would be of no aid," Aragorn said. His eyes ran along the shoreline until they fell upon a dull orange glow. "I believe we have found them." He started to run.

(…)

Sam sat up. "Did you hear that?"

Frodo and Pippin looked at him. "Hear what?"

"There's somethin' in there…"

Gimli stood up and grabbed his axe. "Show yourself," he muttered, prepared to face a battalion of Orcs.

Aragorn, Merry and Boromir burst through the thicket of branches and leaves.

"Merry!" Pippin cried. He slapped his hands over his mouth when he realized how loud he had been. When Aragorn set the hobbit down with his friends Pippin embraced him.

"Where's the Elf?" Gimli asked, lowering his axe.

Aragorn searched for his things and adorned himself with his sword. "I am going back to retrieve him."

"Back where? What happened?" Gimli asked Aragorn's back. "Aragorn!"

(…)

Legolas ran, ignoring the pain in his leg when he knew it would pain him greatly later. He tripped several times and was stabbed by intruding branches. The knives on his back made metallic noises in their sheaths after being put away haphazardly and threatening to fall out and be lost. Tears streamed down his cheeks. This was far worse than if Calen had tied. He had been poisoned, corrupted in the worst way; had a hand in the deaths of so many people. It was Calen who nearly drowned Aragorn, Calen who brought Êlanna within an inch of her life, probably Calen who led the hunt for Thranduil and Ithil.

Prince Calen, eldest of the fourteen, the only with green eyes. The green eyes that Eryn had inherited.

_He is not Calen anymore_.

Legolas collided directly with Aragorn, but did not have the strength to knock the Man over.

"Legolas, are you alright?"

Bowing his head to hide his tears, Legolas shook his head and was guided to the Fellowship's camp.

(…)

_"Please, Legolas! Hold on!" Calen screamed, his voice heightened by his terror. He put his mouth to the wound again and sucked out the blood then spit it on the floor._

_Legolas lay on his back. The damp stone numbed the fresh whip-lashes on his back, but did nothing for his arm. A cut ran from the middle of his bicep to the middle of his forearm and was riddled with a deadly poison. Legolas could feel his lungs turning to stone, felt his heart beginning to stop…_

_When he woke up Calen was sitting beside him, pale from the number of times he vomited poison out of himself, but smiling thankfully. "Thank the Valar," he said, green eyes glittering with tears. He had already lost four brothers; to lose any more would break his soul._

_"You saved me…"_

_"I will _always _save you."_

(…)

Legolas cringed as Aragorn washed the cut on his back, silently crying.

"Legolas, why was he so set on fighting you?"

Unable to answer without showing how much pain he was in, the Elf remained silent. He was thankful Aragorn did not ask again. They returned to the others.

"You alright, Master Elf?" Gimli asked when he saw the bandages around his stomach, the one on his arm and one that stretched over Legolas' shoulder.

Again, Legolas could not reply. He pulled a fresh tunic over his shoulders a fastened the front. For a moment he found the strength to speak. "Not at all, Gimli."

"Care to talk about it?" Boromir asked, remembering the look of liberation on the Elf's face the last time he had explained what was wrong.

"My brother tried to kill me," Legolas said flatly, faintly. He touched the pendant around his neck, but did not feel the comfort he had when he first touched it, as though his family was astonished as well and could offer no words of comfort.

"Brother?" Aragorn asked and then it occurred to him. "Legolas, please forgive me for leaving. I did not know—"

"Do not apologize, Aragorn. If you had stayed you would have been dead," Legolas said with a few more tears.

"That _thing _was your brother?" Boromir asked breathlessly as though the shock had pushed it out of him.

"Yes." Legolas put his fingers to his lips and swallowed hard.

"_Was _your brother, Legolas," Aragorn said, setting a hand on his shoulder. "That is not Calen anymore."

"He fights like Calen, threatens like Calen, breathes like Calen," Legolas said. Another flood of tears threatened to spill.

"But he is not Calen," Aragorn emphasized.

"Eryn has his eyes. That green… the colour of a living place, the colour Mirkwood was. He looked at me with those eyes intent on killing me." A few tears escaped.

Aragorn watched Legolas as though he were on a rack having his bones and muscles ripped away from each other. He embraced him. "Lurtz is not Calen, Legolas."

_I will always save you._

A/N – There. Less of a cliffhanger.


	24. Chapter XXIV: Release Me

**Chapter XXIV: Release Me**

"Should we wake him?" Gimli asked in a low voice as he watched the Elf.

Legolas was awake, but his last desire was to move. All night he had been plagued by memories of everything, things he thought he had escaped. The pendant was cold against his skin and it had given him such false hope he wanted to throw it into the river, but he knew he could never bring himself to. It was such a miraculous gift and it was his family.

"If we do not leave now we will be found and there is little we can do against Uruk-hai," Aragorn said as sternly, but only with concern for the Company's safety. "Boromir, wake him. I will get the hobbits up."

The Son of the Steward did not know why he wanted to protest. He chance left, however, and he had to do what he was told. Kneeling down, he removed his hand from beneath his cloak and touched Legolas' upper arm. His fingers were still cold and he had felt sick in his chest all morning. "Legolas, wake up. We have to go."

Legolas did not think of the blood on his back. He thought of the scar it would leave. It was no different than any other of his scars; he would remember how he received it for the rest of his life, would recall the face of the one who gave it, would live forever with the memory of whatever or whoever he had lost that day. Calen, his eldest brother, had tried to kill him. Green eyes glittered maliciously on dark skin, white paint in the shape of a hand tattooed on his face. He had lost everything.

"Legolas," Boromir said kindly.

The Elf sat up carefully. There was no dawn, only clouds and fog that shifted languidly over the river. "You are still cold, Boromir."

"My very blood was cooled by the Anduin's water," Boromir said almost lightly. "I will be fine in time."

"How is Merry?"

"He's not awake yet," the Man replied. "How are you, Legolas?"

"I do not know myself," he answered. "I am feeling many things."

"Boromir, Legolas, pack quickly," Aragorn's voice came from the other side of the camp. "Legolas, I want to check your wounds before we leave."

Legolas nodded and complied with his companion's requests. After, he went with Aragorn behind the reeds where there was a small pool of water.

"It is not infected and is not too deep," Aragorn said as he re-dressed the injury. "It should be healed in short time, but will you be?"

"I am not fit to answer that question, mellon-nîn. I thought that I had taken all the trauma deserved by one being, immortal or no, in the past six years, but I was evidently incorrect. I can only hope that this will be over soon," Legolas said, holding his last thread of hope tightly. Long ago he thought he had no more hope, but somehow he always managed to find something to believe in, to suffer through the pain for.

"Legolas, I must ask you: if you come across Lurtz again, what will you do?"

Legolas had been waiting for the question since the previous night. "I do not know—"

"Would you kill him?"

Legolas turned around and looked at Aragorn. The Man was afraid, terrified, but no as much as his Elven companion. "Please, do not make me, Aragorn."

"I would not force you to, Legolas, but if it was between life and death, would you kill him?" Aragorn was allowing the calmness to fall from his voice and show true concern. He knew that miserable fate would bring Lurtz to them again.

For a moment the Elf was quiet. "I do not know what I would do."

Aragorn bowed his head. "Would you be upset if I killed him?"

"Aragorn—"

"Legolas, he is not your brother anymore. I know it is a hard fact to accept, but you must! If you do not kill him I will. He is a danger to you, your family, and our cause. You are afraid, and rightfully so, but do not let that blind you to what must be done."

Legolas was quiet again, mild anger sparking in his chest. How could Aragorn think he understood what he endured? It was not an easy thing to comprehend, killing his brother, but Calen was all he had left. Closing his eyes, Legolas tried to damper his resentment. "Do not even begin to think you know what this feels like, Aragorn. You have lost your mother and your father and I am sympathetic for that, but can you imagine if you had to kill one of them? The only tie you had left to who you were and you are asking _me _if I would kill my brother? No, Aragorn, I would not! His life is not mine to take, nor is it yours!"

The hobbits heard the yelling and felt a cold sphere in their stomachs.

"What are they fighting about?" Pippin asked.

"That thing that hurt Legolas last night was his brother," Sam replied, using his keen ears to listen closely. "Legolas refuses to kill him."

Frodo felt worried. Legolas was an important asset to the Fellowship and Frodo always felt protected when the archer was with him. It was unnerving to know that if he was attacked, Legolas would not save him.

"Fain ta, Aragorn!" Legolas snapped as he emerged from the reeds. He snatched up his bow and pack and loaded it onto the boat without another word.

Aragorn came shortly after him, just as disquieted and stubborn. He did not need to say anymore to get the Company into the canoes and they were soon in the hands of the current of the Anduin.

(…)

"Good morning, Êlanna," Haldir greeted, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "Would you like something to eat?"

She slowly opened her eyes and saw Haldir smiling weakly at her. "Yes, please, if it is not too much trouble. I know you have a battalion to command, especially after the attack. I am probably the last thing you should be tending to."

"Of course not," the Elf-captain said, pulling back the covers and lifting Êlanna off the bed. "You are my closest companion's wife and a dear friend. I would do anything for you." He set her down in a chair and laid a blanket over her knees then fetched her robe for her and put it over her delicate shoulders.

"Where is Eryn?" Êlanna asked as Haldir busied about in the next room.

"She was awake early this morning and went down to see Lord Celeborn to listen to a story," he answered as he brought her a chalice of warm tea. "Is it alright that I let her go?"

"Yes, of course, Haldir. I cannot keep her in her room forever and it is good that she is enjoying herself in times such as these," Êlanna said sadly. She took a sip of her tea. "Is it already midday?"

"It is. You have been sleeping well these past days and Lady Galadriel said that is a good sign," Haldir said, giving her a bowl of fruit and a fork. He sat down on the chair across the room with less proper posture than he usually had. "Êlanna, I do not have to return to the flets until the moon come up. Would you like me to stay with you? We could go to the ground if you'd like and you could read or—"

"I'd like that very much, Haldir, thank you," she said. Her head started to drop over her bowl and a few tears fell onto her breakfast. She had cried every morning since her husband left and at least once more during the day after that. A deep void had been left in her and from past experience Êlanna did not know whether or not to expect his return.

Haldir watched he cry every morning, but did not touch her. She was so frail he was afraid she would break and he knew that her outburst of sorrow would spread to him. He missed Legolas and his mind was constantly plagued with thoughts of worse times when Legolas had been gone for a year. Every morning Haldir had to suppress every emotion he had.

(…)

"Lad, you cannot stay mad at him forever," Gimli said. He had been able to sense the tension between the front and rear boat for the entire morning and it was at the point where it was almost a tangible thing. "I don't think you were mad at him to begin with." Even just from Legolas' back Gimli could see that he was wrong and that the Elf was rather infuriated.

Boromir brought his boat alongside Aragorn's. Merry and Pippin were sitting in front of him, huddled close together under three blankets and Boromir's cloak, still chilled from swimming in the Anduin for hours the previous night. "Aragorn, you must talk to him eventually."

"He will not listen to me," Aragorn said coldly. He was silently wishing that Gandalf were with them. "We'll stop at dusk to be safe. We will not wait until the moon is up tonight."

Boromir agreed and slowed his paddling to fall slightly behind and take his place in the middle.

"Have they ever fought before, Boromir?" Merry asked.

"I do not know, Merry. Not that I am aware of," the Man answered.

(…)

_"No!" Aranorn screamed, thrashing against the Orcs' hold as they pulled him towards a scarcely open door. "NO!"_

_Menel with his short hair after the Orcs had cut most of it off, fought through the groups, pushing those in his way to their knees. He reached the door as it was closing. "Aranorn!"_

_Pulling his younger brother away, Taure brought Menel back to where the other Mirkwood brothers stood. _

_"Release me!" Menel cried, fighting his brother's grip._

(…)

Legolas tried to close his mind, tried to lose himself in the repetitious movement of rowing, but that only seeming to make it worse.

(…)

_Ilmen stood with his dark green eyes staring out, unfocused, was leaning more to his right side. A dagger glistened in his hand. His brothers watched him intently with fear._

_"Ilmen…" Mallorn said, carefully approaching him as though he were a wild buck instead of a prince. "Ilmen, we will escape—"_

_The older prince laughed humourlessly. "No, we'll never escape. We will never see __Ada__, Legolas will never see Êlanna or Eryn. We are trapped like mice, brothers. There is no hope. We might as well all die! Valar, release me." He poised the dagger above his head and plunged it into his heart, falling dead at an instant._

_(…)_

The Fellowship stopped when the sky was gold and orange with the leaving of the Sun. They pulled the boats onto shore and made a fire. Legolas set himself to watch in the high branches of a tree.

"He will not allow me to help him," Aragorn fumed, standing in front of the fire so his thin shadow was cast long across the bay. "He has panic attacks and is injured and I try to do my duty as his friend and help, but I am alone. How can I help him if he will not help himself? He would bleed to death before stopping and dressing the wound."

"I think you are underestimating him, Aragorn," Boromir said. He chose his next words carefully; aware of what thin ground he was treading on. "I agree he is very stubborn, but it comes from having brothers. I say so and I only have _one younger _brother, not fourteen older. He does not stop because he knows that something else may attack and he does not want to be caught off his guard."

"I know," Aragorn snapped. His voice suddenly changed. "I just do not want anything to happen to him."

"No one does," Boromir said. "The moon is high. You should get some rest, I'm on watch."

Legolas wanted to listen, but his mind had been drawn away by other things – things he did not wish to think about.

(…)

"'We'll never escape,'" Legolas repeated. He could not bear to recall such things anymore and leapt out of the branches, landing lightly, hardly disturbing the sand, but making Boromir jump. "My apologies for disturbing you. I could not sit by myself."

"It's fine. I could use the company. What were you thinking about up there?" Boromir asked. Legolas had shared thoughts with him before and it always seemed to take a small bit of the burden off his shoulders.

Legolas sat down beside the son of the Steward. "I was thinking about Ithil."

"Your brother who was blind?"

"My brother who blinded himself. I was looking for him in the stables…"

_(…)_

_"Ithil?" Legolas called. His voice was still quieted by all he had seen—all the deaths he had witnessed, the dead brothers he held in his arms, his protectors. Ithil was all he had now. "Ithil?" he called again. "__Ada__ wishes for—"_

_Ithil was lying on the floor with his limbs bent in odd directions as though he had fallen. A rod was only inches away from his hand, the end lifting tendrils of smoke into the air. Blood caked on his cheeks like tears of blood._

_"Ithil!" Legolas ran to his brother's side, took his hand. He ran his fingers over his sibling's face and gently touched the blood when Ithil snapped awake. His eyes were red, the sight burned out of them._

_"I can still see it…" he whispered. _

_Legolas was beginning to tear. He and Ithil had made it this far, they were the only ones left and had to continue for themselves and their father. It was difficult enough to endure with only on of the pieces of himself still alive, but Legolas knew that alone he would fall apart. "Ithil, what have you done?"_

_"I wanted to be released from the memory," he answered, his face blank. "I do not want to see my brothers dying all my waking moments… I only wanted to be released…"_

_(…)_

"That's horrible," Boromir sighed. It was the last thing he remembered saying before drifting off into sleep.

(…)

Legolas paddled mindlessly, thinking of inconsequential things such as the shapes of the clouds – anything to keep his mind occupied with thoughts without bloodshed. He was doing quite well until he sensed movement to his left. His head immediately turned to the side, his blue eyes narrowed. He could see Orcs and Uruk-hai running alongside them and locked with a pair of green eyes that seemed to demand a challenge.

"What is it?" Gimli asked when he noticed the Elf's dramatic change in breathing.

"We are being followed," Legolas replied. He started to paddle harder to float abreast with the other two canoes. "Aragorn," he said, the first words he had said to the Man in a day.

Aragorn did not seem to hear. His eyes rose up to the sky. "The Argonath… long have I desired to look upon the kings of old…my kin."

Legolas had noticed the statues long ago and they were glorious, but there was a more pressing matter at hand. He opened his mouth, but could not bring himself to say anything.

"We will stop here," the Ranger said.

A/N – I know, a bit of a filler chapter, but I have a bunch of spare time this week and my goal is to get it finished. I must say that I am proud of myself for not causing too much pain this chapter. I was talking with my good friend, the Lady Elendil, and said that if I had to suffer studying physics all weekend, then chances are characters in all my stories were going to suffer too. She said, "There's your author's note right there." Happy belated Ukrainian Christmas and New Year's!!


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